


Bottle Me Your Smile

by Ncj700



Series: Apothecary AU [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 80s music did not inspire this fic, Adult Viktor needs hugs, Angst, Apothecary AU, Banacotta, Boil Cures, Broomstick flights, Broomsticks, Child Viktor is precious too, Drinking, Faeries everywhere, Festivals, Good times, He's trying so hard, I'm not sorry though, If you think that’s poor music taste you should have heard what I listened to in the 90’s., Inspired by Art, Lilia is not amused, Loads of Angst, MRS. BARANOVSKAYA, Magic, Makkachin makes her debut!, Multi, NO SNOW LEOPARDS WERE HARMED IN THE MAKING OF THIS FIC., Parades, Phichit chulanot invents magical social media, Prince! Yurio, Princes, Sorcerer!Viktor, Sorcerers, Storytime, Teenage Viktor is a precious bean, Those potion ingredients gotta come from somewhere., VITYA STOP YOUR BAD FLIRTING ITS NOT WORKING., Vicchan Lives, Viktor is such a tourist, Voodoo, Wands, Wisps, Witch!Yuuri, Witches, Yakov is where his students get their extra., Yuuri has fun, Yuuri is sassy, Yuuri really wants a unicorn, Yuuri you underestimate Viktor's thirst, Yuuri's powers of NOPE are strong in this one, and a bad one at that, animal skinning, antleers, he has his reasons, he's also the KING OF UNDERSTATEMENT bless, humane-ish Animal butchery?, i didn't mean it, info in chapter notes at the top, love potions, my tags suck I'm so sorry, oh look plot and foreshadowing, party time, phichit is the best bff, poor yakov, possible triggers, slight gore, so does Viktor, spells, the magic midnight forest, then a brat, witches hats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:49:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 87,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ncj700/pseuds/Ncj700
Summary: In a tiny village on the edge of the kingdom, Yuuri Katsuki – common as mud Pharmakeia owner – embarks on a goal to achieve a childhood goal. With the help of the world’s greatest magical, and a missing potion ingridient, he will achieve it. Apothecary AU for @Banacotta/Antleers





	1. Mr. Blue Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antleers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antleers/gifts).



_Sun is shinin' in the sky, There ain't a cloud in sight; i_ _t's stopped rainin’, everybody's in a play, and don't you know?_ _It's a beautiful new day_

* * *

Hasetsu was a small place, not so much a town but a tiny island dotted with numerous houses, corralled into a collection of islands known as the Wa Archipelago where Hasetsu existed as the farthest isle eastern. It was but a dot on the map of the unending Ruthenian empire. Cěsarĭ Nikolai probably didn’t even know the place existed.

Its main call to fame were the magical hot springs - onsen in the local tongue - which welled from the volcanic scenery. They provided healing energy and nourishment to the few who knew of the village’s secret, but not many did. Only one onsen existed, situated amongst the high crags, overlooking the whole island, picturesque views of the surrounding lands and ocean from every direction.

It was so far from Dominicus that most would never see the seat of the empire’s power, Hasetsu was a quiet place, and most people preferred it that way. There was no need for overly-enthusiastic magical tournaments, or extra soldiers on the streets to break up magical brawls. Magic was never lauded when hard work and dedication should be given due instead, and it was barely a tool to the residents.

This changed however, with the birth of Hasetsu’s only solstice-child, Katsuki Yuuri. Son of the family who owned the hot spring inn, he had been a surprise child whose mother endured a long pregnancy fraught with excessive nausea, and many other strong symptoms.

When he was born on an early winter solstice, the only child born in Hasetsu for perhaps a hundred years at _just_ the right time. Even as a newborn, there was no doubt that he was magical.

It was the depth in his brown eyes, the brightness of his smile and sweetness of his voice. Nothing obviously betrayed his talent, but it was just… there. He was special; all who met him knew it, and it only grew more obvious as the years passed.

As a child, Yuuri always had a knack for finding things no-one else could, or attracting the animals when he played with his mother and sister in the garden and inn courtyard.

At the back of the all the other houses, Yu-topia Akatsuki had always been close to the wilder side of the island; when left to his own devices, Yuuri had a habit of attracting local wildlife. Mostly birds, but there was a small dog (which alarmed Hiroko, as it _never_ grew in size) that Yuuri always found scraps to feed.

This trait carried over when he began his basic education with the other village children. Despite an inherent shy, timid nature, people flocked to him. He was clever, and somehow even the other children could sense that he was a little different.

However, he had been raised to be kind, and his classmates never begrudged whatever it was that made him that little bit brighter, that made him seem to sparkle at the most innocuous of things.

The adults knew it too, but with different eyes; he had all the signs of a solstice-born. Like Takeshi his hair was dark like winter, and all the mothers told Hiroko how handsome the little boy would be one day. The saw his curiosity in strange things that no-one else paid attention to, as if he could see something they couldn’t already.

Like the well on Fukoshida-san’s goat farm. It was old and crumbling, and no water could be no longer be drawn after a drought before Yuuri was born. During a visit with his parents to the old couple’s home, the three-year-old simply refused to stay away from it, nearly falling down as he called out to nothing - or so the adults thought - in curiosity.

Later they found it to be blocked not by rubble, but a family of _Susuwatari_ whose home had been disturbed by a storm. No-one else had been able to tell they were there. Who would, when they had no way of sensing the strain of magic in the creatures?

The Susuwatari were guided to a shed on the farm where the could nest to their hearts content, and the Fukoshida family got their well back, all because Yuuri wanted to make friends with the strange, almost fluffy balls of coal and dirt dust.

His parents never pushed him to it, but when he started coming home from family walks in the woods with plants and birds eggs he insisted on putting in his pockets, they began to wonder if he needed more than they could provide.

Then he started to mix them together; when the resulting concoctions started staining the floorboards in his bedroom blue, and the food he helped with in the inn began to temporarily give the guests animal voices, Hiroko and Toshiya knew his future was more than their humble village upbringing could prepare him for.

When Yuuri was four years old, they asked the closest magical (an Enchantress named Minako-sensei from the next island) to take him on as an apprentice. It wasn’t difficult to arrange - the ethereal woman was ecstatic to have a student for the promise of free sake, though she insisted it wasnt necessary - and so she moved to Hasetsu to begin Yuuri’s training. That was when his knowledge of the magical community began.

Minako-sensei taught him about the importance of the Solstices in their world, why they were always celebrated, and why not even child born during one would be Solstice-born.

Sometimes there was something missing, sometimes there was too much of one thing. Sometimes there were too many of those with magical abilities already. Sometimes they were born too late in the day, sometimes too early.

Many people tried to time the birth of their children to a solstice - Yuuri’s friend Takeshi had been one such child. It was fortuitous, and any child born during a solstice was sure to be blessed, but just because they were born on the right day didn’t mean they would have powers.

He was solstice-child, but not a true solstice-born. Takeshi was strong, very strong, and he would have no problems taking a career in any kind of labour, but he had no powers.

‘ _There about 200,000 people across the entire Wa Archipelago Yuuri_ ,’ Minako-sensei told him once. ‘ _Out of all those people, there are only about ten true solstice-born registered, including us._ ’

The islands Yuuri called home were the least populous region of the world. There were many isles, but a good number were uninhabitable; for those that were populated, the terrain, sharp winters and blistering summers made them difficult places to live. But he hadn’t understood why his ability to use magic made him so special in the eyes of the villagers until Minako-sensei told him that.

His training was continuous; after Yuuri finished his basic eduction, he left school. Whilst Yuuko and Takeshi went on to learn trades to get by in life, his time was filled with books and scrolls to memorise. Or trips to the other islands, where Minako-sensei would take him out into the wilderness and have him identify plants with only a rough description.

He learned to make potions too; he learned how to count far higher than any of his friends needed, so that he understood the formulas, divisions and complex diagrams in the books Minako-sensei gave him long before he even learned how to make a simple potion base that utilised the five elements.

It was only after he had learned this, that he was finally allowed to make anything. His first potion, his first real potion was a cure for a boil that had become so painful Mari couldn’t walk without limping. It worked within the day, and despite his blush, Yuuri felt a blossom of pride in his work begin to unfurl in his chest from the Enchantress’s praise.

His training progressed, and he moved onto more complex potions with fluidity and his only stopper his thirst for more. Often, he was so eager for results that his successful experiments were the ones to fix his magical accidents.

Minako-sensei was pleased with his progress however, and by the time he was ten-years-old, Yuuri was already making potions and little vials to help his parents, and a few neighbours. Seemingly, that was a milestone, because on his tenth birthday exactly, she took him on a trip to the mainland, to the centre of the magical community with Yuuko and Takeshi for extra company.

Piter was as foreign as any village beyond Hasetsu could be, only more, with tall, bulbous domes, vast buildings, and even a strange way of writing that was harsh and angular in comparison to the fluid lines of Yuuri’s home. Minako told him it was a type of runic script, the local language.

Piter had a much higher percentage of solstice-born - over half of its population was magical, and it was easy to see the effect on the large costal city. It was the centre of the world’s magical community (Dominicus a close second), but much as Yuuri would have loved to see the town, he was not there for fun.

It was for his first set of exams at the Imperial Magical Standards Authority..

The first was a week long series of Novice level tests in his general magic use, his second a week long Junior one in Potioneering. He passed the first without much ceremony - after the written and practical tests, though he would remember the day for years to come. He was much older when he understood the significance of being handed his first wand.

The second trial was different.

Yuuri had passed his basic potions exam, but one of the examiners asked Minako-sensei if he would sit another paper. It was only his rapid sincere assurances that kept Yuuri from thinking he had failed the first that persuaded him to agree - ‘ _Just the opposite kid, I think you can manage something at a higher level_ ’.

When he went to sit it, he relaxed. For one thing he wasn’t in a room full of other nervous applicants whose frantic, panicked quill-scratches only added to the pressure.

The paper was completely different too; not just tick boxes, small areas of descriptions, simple formulas diagrams to draw, but filled with space for lengthier answers, explanation and full equations. The questions were specific: ‘ _List and detail ingredients for an elixir with only temporary effects; also include methodology of the brewing practice, and explain the magical formulas at work._ ’

Yuuri dutifully scribbled down the elemental nature of oyster extract, stalyphos, and all the other ingredients he knew for the first potion that had popped to mind without much thought. While difficult to make - indeed no-one had ever brewed a _true_ one - love potions were simple in their manufacture and make up.

Yuuri had tried making one variety before, to encourage goodwill and friendship; he made it for a festival, changing the ingredients so that he didn’t feel quite as terrified by the crowd of villagers. It hadn’t lasted long, but he’d managed it.

He completed the exam, and the next day faced absolute horror when he was told to brew the elixir from his paper. Yuuri had messed around with love potions, but brewing one in an exam he wasn’t even supposed to be doing was another matter!

He didn’t quite understand how he managed, but brew it he did to the gawping faces of the judges; he was sitting a Junior exam, but the very fact that he’d managed to brew something at all made them bump it up _again_ , and he was approved use of an advanced cauldron (lined with gold!).

He was presented with a small rose-gold chain, a medallion inset with a emerald green, lavender, and brown stones and engravings. Minako-sensei was ecstatic, and to celebrate took him and his friends to the Grand Magic Gala, which was being hosted in the city. It was a huge competition, which showcased more different types of magic than Yuuri had known existed.

Sorcery, Enchantments, Voodoo, Elementalism, Charms, Wizardry, Witchcraft, even Divination! The Gala was an exhibition of the strangest potions he’d ever heard of, a demonstration of creativity with new spells shown for all to see, and it enthralled the young eyes watching.

Yuuri was already learning Witchcraft. He loved it, but he had heard of other forms of magic, and knew that though Minako-sensei was known for the delicate, compelling, but eternal spells she wove, she was well versed in other fields.

She advised him to research more than one, but he didn’t know where to start. Seeing it all was staggering, and he had no idea where to look first.

Minako-sensei just laughed kindly, and told them to go have fun. Just to come back before Yuuri had to go meet the people from the Potioneer’s Committee who gave him his medallion. She said they wanted to speak to him more about his potion. _Why_ they wanted to talk to him Yuuri couldn’t imagine (he was sure he’d only made the love potion by some fluke), but didn’t question the sudden freedom.

Instead he and his companions headed directly for the one place they hadn’t caught a glimpse of yet; the battle arena, where magicals teased their abilities in combat. It was a qualifying event for those wishing to enter the Magic Division of the Royal Army, and even the rumours and newspaper clippings had been exciting.

That was where Yuuri saw _him_ for the first time, a whirling vortex of ice that crashed into his opponent without mercy and sharp grace. Yuuri's eyes were glued to the arena, watching in amazement as a young boy, only a few years older than himself, battled against a well known member of the Cěsarĭ’s personal regiment.

Both Cao Bin and Yuuri were blown away by the unavoidable presence, dominating talent, and beautiful spellcraft of the young Sorcerer Viktor Nikiforov.

* * *

_Hey there Mr. Blue, we're so pleased to be with you_

* * *

After seeing Viktor Nikiforov at the Gala, Yuuri threw himself into his training with a fervour that only intensified the more he learned about his fellow solstice-born.

Viktor was fourteen-years-old, but had entered his first gala at twelve; a native of Piter itself, he was the main apprentice of Yakov Feltsman( the Chief of the Dominicus Imperial Guard) and was a once-in-a-thousand-years talent in spell crafting, sorcery, battle, and elemental magic.

He had already invented several new spells which had been added to the registry for other magic users to learn, (for a fee). They were all forms of advanced magic Yuuri couldn't even hope to replicate. There was talk of him replacing Yakov one day, but for the moment he was sweeping through the accolades of the magical community with the same grace he had defeated Cao Bin before Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri’s training also continued, growing more and more proficient in his chosen field of Witchcraft day by day. When he arrived home, and Minako explained more about his tiny medallion (probably worth more than his whole house), what it meant he could do,

Witchcraft differed from Wizardry and Sorcery in many ways. The spells were arguably more complex, as wands were not used in their casting, nor were they utilised through any other magical object. Witchcraft also encompassed natural forces, and was limited not by power, but by ones own understanding of the natural world.

That was why, Minako-sensei later revealed, his teacher chosen to direct him in the less-popular art; it required more dedication to master, and the preparation involved in it laid the foundation for a stable knowledge of most other schools.

‘ _If you can master Witchcraft, then the hard work for the others is half done for you - that was how I was taught, and Mistress Lilia wasn’t known to be a liar,’_ she told him once. Yuuri believed her - Mistress Baranovskaya was one of the few remaining Witches of any formidable acclaim, and her acclaim was indeed _formidable_.

Yuuri was eager to begin. The first subject he planned to tackle was sorcery, a field Viktor had already studied, but that was a future plan.

With the new level of training approved, Minako-sensei began to drill him head first in his craft, delving deeper into nature and the ways of the Threefold Law, introducing other traditions (besides the eastern ones he already knew) into his magic, explaining the sub-elements beyond the five founding ones.

He studied harder rituals, and his potions were even worse - he continued to work on his love potions, but he worked on others too. Potions for disguises, potions to aid the human body, potions for animals, potions to ward off yokai, potions to attract yokai, everything he could read or do.

He understood - magic was like learning a trade. Training in it began as early as possible for the users own safety, often before they fully comprehended basic education. Yuuri’s had taken a backseat to his magical training after Minako-sensei agreed to take him on as an apprentice.

It was a lifetime commitment of love, just like any trade, but the intricacies and danger were perhaps worse. Yuuri was nearly eleven-years-old, but he was by no means considered anything more than an apprentice, and he’d lived and breathed it for seven years already.

It took him several more months to reach the first milestone to becoming a fully registered Witch, the formation of his own personal triquetra. It was simple and plain, the way Yuuri liked things, but delicate and graceful like Minako-sensei and Viktor, whose magic he admired so much.

It appeared on his medallion, and his stones meted into the carved lines, creating a shimmering mother of pearl effect with the colours - he would carry it with him for the rest of his life, and with greater understanding came greater excitement.

The triquetra meant he was now at a level where he could sit the Coven Trials, and advance into high levels of Witchcraft. He was almost there, and it wasn’t any more apparent than when he and Minako travelled halfway across the world to the Royal City for the tests into Mistress Baranovskaya’s Coven. It was one of several, but it was the best - what was the point of aiming for anything but that?

The level of Coven he joined reflected his ability as a solstice-born over his gifts, and his ability to merge them with the world. If he could join even as a minor member of the Bolshoi Coven, he would no longer be an apprentice, he would be a master of his craft.

His family might not understand, but he knew thay would be just as proud of him as Minako-sensei would be, and it was the threat and fear of disappointment which drove Yuuri through each of his tests.

They were as gruelling as the almost draconian training Minako-sensei had drilled into him, and Yuuri flourished amongst the competition for a spot in the acclaimed circle. He demonstrated spells to dismantle curses, spells used in approved curses, and battled against other applicants (just like Viktor did during the Gala).

After six weeks of tests and exhaustive magic use, Yuuri entered into the Bolshoi as a Premier, far more than he had ever hoped to achieve.

He wasn’t convinced it hadn’t been a mix up, but never spoke up, too excited and hopeful that maybe he _could_ be just as good as his idol (in his own way), that he really had earned it fair and square. Minako-sensei was in tears when he received his first hat and his broomstick from her former mentor, from Mistress Baranovskaya herself.

Yuuri took the firm, but soft warm conical hat from her hands, and the soft fabric shimmered, turning the same rich warm brown as his eyes. Plain and nondescript, just the way he liked things. When she handed him his broomstick, a spoil only awarded to Premiers, he could hardly believe it.

Did he really have the skill to _fly_ without any more training? He could only find out, and he gripped its handle with an excited fear, reluctant to part with it (but scared it would be found a mistake and taken back).

Yuuri was too terrified to speak to Mistress Baranovskaya later, when she sought out her former pupil during the after-exam party with her husband (Yakov Felstman! Yuuri stammered even more at the mere sight of _Viktor’s_ mentor). He felt completely out of his depth with all the famous faces he’d only read in books or seen in newsprint suddenly surrounding his mentor.

He’d forgotten. He knew it of course, but back in Hasetsu, Minako-sensei was just that — _Minako-sensei_ . She wasn’t a famous Enchantress, longtime Premier of the Bolshoi, or a celebrated Spellcrafter. So many people came to speak to her - people who were far more important than he could hope to imagine - and once they finished talking to her, they always spoke to _him_.

Honestly, it had been worse than the exams - those had made sense. Navigating so many people made much less sense, and it terrified him. He wasn’t used to the pressure of being around other solstice-born, and he felt like there was an expectation.

He didn’t know what kind - it wasn’t the beacon of pride in his chest he had for his village - but he felt it. He felt that he didn’t fit in amongst all this, all the glitter and sparkle of talent carved by decades of practice and dedication.

Thankfully, Minako-sensei seemed to know he was uncomfortable, and he was allowed to disappear to the buffet, where most of the other kids his age had congregated. There were a few who had had passed their exams from other magical schools, or other witches from the Bolshoi, but Yuuri still wasn’t entirely comfortable, and did his best to keep to himself.

Eventually, he began talking to a boy called Christophe, who had earned full Potions Mastery the year Yuuri sat his novice exams. At twelve, he was a year older, and was the only person there who wasn’t obsessed with their wand. He’d travelled to Říp from St Berna in Vallis Poenina to learn from his mentor.

He was nice - friendly - and before long they were deep in conversation about the volatility of elixirs, and pros and cons of storage methods versus ingredient types (Chris was an advocate of freezing charms cast in cupboards to keep fresh ingredients for long periods, whilst Yuuri’s witchcraft demanded he support only the freshest of ingredients for full magical potential to be extracted).

They talked about their next schools of study too.

“I wanted to look into Witchcraft,” Chris said once they’d found seats to sit down and munch on their roast pork. “That’s why Joseph took me with him tonight, but I watched those tests and everyone back home said it’s hard to get used to using magic without a wand.” He frowned. “There’s not many people who still teach it in Říp or Vallis Poenina either. I’d have to start with a new apprenticeship, and I don’t think I want to yet.”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t really use my wand, except for novice spells and exams,” Yuuri shrugged. “But I don’t have to at home. Minako-sensei says they fail you for that when you’re training though, so I had to use it when I performed them in the tests.”

“Not even for Potions?” Chris raised an eyebrow.

Yuuri shook his head. “It just doesn't feel right,” he shrugged.

“That’s criminally unfair Yuuri, please tell me you’re going to aim for a mastery in Potions next! You’d be wasted not training in another discipline with talent like that, especially if you’re mixing up Love Potions,” he pouted. “That was what I based my senior’s exam on, and it blew up in my face - I still passed, but I was brewing them for a month after in pure rage.”

“The longest I’ve ever got is 40 minutes, but I still haven’t got it right yet,” Yuuri blushed, wishing he hadn’t told Chris about his tinkering with the elusive brews. “But I’m not sure bout my next school, I always wanted to try Sorcery or Elementalism, something different.I saw Viktor Nikiforv at the Grand Magic Gala, and-”

“Ah, in Piter!” Chris grinned, his shaggy curls bouncing in excitement. “I saw him too! He actually recognised me from the Potioneering Show!”

“Really?!”

And of course after that, they forgot about the rest of the party entirely, and traded stories from magazines about their idol until their respective teachers came looking for them. Yuuri left with a mail address for Chris, and a smile on his face to release the tension from before.

“There you are Yuuri,” she smiled with relief.. “I wanted to introduce you to someone,” she added, putting a hand on a man’s shoulder. He didn’t seem as overbearing as the others. He had a long ponytail and shimmering robes of deep blues and purples, the staff of a Wizard in his hand.“This is Celestino Caldini.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened at the name; he was retired from galas now, but Celestino had been as famous as Viktor once, and was a household name in the magical section of the newsprints. He focused on Wizardry, but was accomplished in Charms, Sorcery, Elementalism, Combative Magic, and Spellcrafting.

“It’s nice to meet you Yuuri,” Celestino smiled, holding out his hand. Yuuri took it politely and curiously. “Minako tells me you’re looking to start a new school of apprenticeship, is that right?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he nodded; there had been talk of finding him a new mentor, as Minako-sensei could only show him the basics of Charms, and expand that into Enchantments, but they didn’t interest Yuuri at the moment. For all their power, there was too much _thinking_.

“He’s _desperate_ to learn Sorcery,” Minako-sensei laughed fondly. “I took him to the Gala with some friends during his novice exams and he’s been inspired by Viktor ever since,” she smiled.

“He’s lucky to have you, _Bella_ ,” Celestino beamed. “All these years you proclaimed you couldn’t handle a student, and then Yuuri surprises everyone here!” He turned back to Yuuri, and his smile softened. “Though I’m sure you would have found your way even without help eventually - I speak for quite a few people I think, when I say I was very impressed by your magic during the Coven Trials Yuuri. You’re very talented!”

Yuuri’s face turned red and his mind went blank - was the Wizard being serious or just forcing himself to be polite infront of Minako-sensei?

“I’m… I Just remember what Minako-sensei shows me,” he mumbled awkwardly.

Celestino’s friendly gaze softened and he sat down in the chairs next to Yuuri along with Minako-sensei. “I heard you’re on your way to a Potioneering Mastery.”

“He made a 15-minute love potion during his _Novice_ trials,” she said, ruffling Yuuri’s hair proudly. After his first exam, the judges wanted to try him at a higher level, but he didn't read the paper properly and instead of writing down the ingredients for something more Junior-range like imp repellent, he scribbled away about oyster extract and stafylinos. When the practical came by he had no choice but to make it, and the judges could hardly not level him further after that.” Minako beamed. “I knew he’d messed around with them, - I didn't teach him, you know how awful my potions are - but Yuuri really took to them like a duck to water. I had to ask Joseph to send me some advanced textbooks.”

Yuuri flushed. He could still remember how much he panicked, realising what he'd given himself for the brewing exam. He'd thought he was _disqualified_ , but love potions met the requirements of the written paper, so it was acceptable.

There had been no rule to say he couldn’t - it was just that no-one else had thought to attempt one. Had Yuuri realised that he had to _make_ a potion from the ingredients discussed in the paper, he probably _would_ have made imp repellent.

"I'm surprised Joseph hasn't tried to steal him now that Christophe has earned his Potioneering Mastery.”

“He’s been asking about it, I was thinking of speaking to him if you weren’t interested,” Minako-sensei said.

“Then I won't complain," Celestino grinned, turning back to Yuuri. "Yuuri, if you're interested in learning some other arcane schools, I'd be very willing to take you on as an apprentice. I can't come out to Wa, since I have a few other students, but you won't need to worry about a place to stay. I'd love to train you. I know it's a scary idea, but will you give it some thought?"

Yuuri nodded - it wasn't everyday a wizard offered to take on a student, and Yuuri knew the offer was an enviable one. He would be foolish not to talk about it with his family.

“I will,” he promised. “Where do you train your apprentices?” He asked curiously.

“I run a school in Érié Strait," Celestino said. "I'm afraid not a lot of people speak eastern tongues, but your common is good so-”

There was a crash from the buffet table, and Celestino froze at a flare of magic unfamiliar to Yuuri. Behind them a boy young boy who hadn't been in any of the exams was staring as a chicken that had been roasted wandered about like a headless horseman, the hard boiled eggs scuttling along like chicks.

He had that face that Yuuri worse sometimes, when his potions went wrong. It was that look of ‘ _That-was-definitely-not-supposed-to-happen!_ ’. For his part, Celestino looked like he was about to choke.

“Gods save us, _D’arvit Jean-Jaques!_ Not _again!_ ” he groaned, whirling on the child - who had frozen with the knowledge of an impending scolding. “I told you, you can’t use your magic until your cold passes!” He shot them both an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, I need to get JJ back to our inn, but Yuuri, please consider my offer! It was wonderful to meet you! Ciao Ciao Minako!”

And with that, he ran after the young boy who had brought the banquet food back to life.

Yuuri glanced up at his teacher with a hopeful smile, and found himself engulfed in a hug. “I’m proud of you Yuuri,” she said. “You’re just as good as that silver-haired hot shot, and don’t you ever forget it!”

“No way!” Yuuri couldn’t help blurting, though his heart warmed at her words in spite of himself. “I’m nowhere near as amazing as Viktor! Even if I watched every solstice born in the world, nobody would ever be better than Viktor! He’s the _best!_ ”

Minako-sensei sighed, ruffling his hair. “If you say so,” she said. “Come on, if we get an early night I’ll show you how to fly that broom before we start heading home tomorrow.”

* * *

_Look around see what you do, Everybody smiles at you._

* * *

The journey home was long.

To get from Hasetsu to the imperial capital, three stages had been needed. First, they had flown on Minako’s broom to the main island in the Wa Archipelago.

From there, it had taken a week in an air frigate, and then two days travel from the mainland of Ruthenia on Minako-sensei’s broom to reach Dominicus. The return flight took a full week as Minako trained him in the use of his new broom.

Then they were on the air frigate back to the Wa Archipelago, and Yuuri chased Minako-sensei across the sea as they returned to Hasetsu; he gave Mari the fright of her life when he drooped out of the sky, landing next to the inn laundry and eagerly showing her his broomstick.

Minako-sensei went in to talk to his parents about Celestino, but Yuuri was on a high, and he sat with his sister on the engawa, telling her everything; how he messed up his extra exam but somehow did well anyway, about Chris, about meeting Viktor’s mentor, he was bursting with all the excitement.

He told her about the vastness of Dominicus, how just the imperial palace itself was larger than the Isle of Hasetsu, about the spray of sea air as they had flown back home. Before he had even realised, he’d nodded off on her shoulder..

After that trip, it was safe to say that Yuuri was more assured of himself. He’d listened, later on when Minako-explained how all his different exams worked, what they meant.

Yuuri had achieved a License for Advanced Potions at ten-years-old. He’d then earned a full magical license as a Premier in the Bolshoi coven at eleven-years-old. Most students earned basic rankings at such ages, maybe medial ones, but Yuuri had managed higher. Maybe he _was_ good enough to train with Celestino after all.

They talked about it for a long time with his family, going over what it would entail, and finally, Yuuri decided to accept the Wizard’s offer. He didn’t want to forget his first disciplines entirely though, and he really wanted to crack the love potion. He’d also had an idea, for a potion of his own, and to create original potion recipes required a Potions Mastery.

So, Yuuri sent Chris a message asking for his advice about applying for the project, along with the letter for Celestino informing his of his decision. He wrote the envelopes and addresses with new purple ink, identifying it as a priority letter between the magical community (a small perk, but it save him postage costs, and time, so a perk nonetheless).

With his plans finally confirmed, Yuuri turned back to his studies, though now it was more exciting with the inclusion of flying. Minako made sure to strengthen his foundations in the magic he would learn under Celestino, and Yuuri made sure to delve straight into the books Chris had sent in reply to his letter.

He had several months before he left Hasetsu for the west, and wanted to get a head start on his potions work, but as he leafed through the tomes, he got distracted. While he fully intended to use love potions as a basis for his Potioneering Mastery evaluation, there was another potion that caught his eye.

It was long-brew effervescent, two months in total, and required twice the number of ingredients Yuuri was used to using. He needed to document the preparation and completion of one more potion to go along with his love potion work, but that wasn’t what drew his attention to it.

It was a potion to call out to a familiar. Minako had two, a rather ungainly rice frog which hadn’t matched up with the graceful enchantress at all (until Yuuri caught after too much sake and honeymead one night), and a beautiful nightingale with a song as graceful as her spellwork. Or at least, those were the forms they took around others - like most familiars, they were in fact yōkai.

Yuuri had always been fascinated by their strange, affectionate bond, and couldn’t help but want want for one of his own. It wasn’t that he was lonely, but aside from Minako (and now Chris) no-one understood his magic on Hasetsu.

Everyone on the island was proud of him, and his family did their best, but he knew his parents had been worried about him training so much so young, when the rest of the kids his age were only just finishing their basic schooling.

He hardly saw Yuuko or Takeshi except at festivals or birthdays anymore. His twelfth, the one before he left for Érié Strait, would be the next time he’d see them. It was always a stupid oversized affair - ‘ _You’re a special boy Yuuri, of course everyone wants to celebrate with you!_ ’ his mother said once.

Many communities held festivals or large parties to celebrate the birth of solstice-born across the empire, with varying traditions depending on the country, but Yuuri just didn’t know what there was to celebrate about him.He felt that it was just out of place. He wasn’t special at all. He just happened to be conceived and later born at the right time for the world to think he’d earned the right to use magic.

A familiar, a companion that not only understood magic but shared it too, was an idea he just couldn’t get out of his head. Only, they were hard to summon. Only powerful solstice-born like Viktor and Minako ever managed to attract one, and Yuuri wasn’t powerful at all.

But… the thought just wouldn’t leave, so he begged Minako to let him try the potion.

‘ _Of course you can, you’re more than old enough to have one by now,_ ’ she shrugged, looking over the list and brewing instructions before making the same face she used when she ran out of sake. ‘ _Just don’t ask me to help - I used an enchantment to find Choryu. I can’t help you with that monster._ ’

She even gave him the contact details for Joseph Karpíšek so she wouldn’t have to act as a go-between anymore. Yuuri had immediately bombarded the postman with several purple-inked letters for the renown Potioneer, before getting down to work.

He chopped up dried rat tails, ground down cat claws, poured dog’s saliva, plucked goose feathers from a carcass his mother was planning to roast, and collected the fish scales scraped away during sushi preparation. He mixed them all with crushed eggshells, ewes milk, and fish roe. Then he added yeast, along with various other ingredients, and sat with the potion for six days and nights as it fermented over a low heat.

After that, he strained away the foul smelling crust, throwing it away now that he had his infusion. He added it to water from his family’s hot springs

The potion called for any preferred mixing medium, and Yuuri had taken to bottling samples of the water in spelled vials for foraging trips, maintaining the springs warmth and magical properties. He didn’t know if the onsen water really _did_ have magical properties or not, but something about it just felt right.

After adding the steaming water, he started throwing in the personal ingredients. Clumps of hair discreetly cut from his head, a drop of his blood, and finally a measure ‘ _as relevant to the brewer_ ’ of weakness.

Yuuri didn’t bother to bottle his ‘ _weakness_ ’, he just sat and bawled his eyes out over the cauldron as he thought about all his shortcomings. The recipe said add the measure of weakness until the liquid turned ‘ _a colour that provides reassurance, just as any familiar should,_ ’ and after a while, Yuuri’s tears began to penetrate the clear liquid.

As they fell, the colour began to change, inky blues from the drops appearing on the surface and swirling through the liquid until the entire potion was a shimmering, opalescent bright blue.

The potion was then to be left to bask in the sun for three days before a full moon, before being left untouched in a dark place over a low heat for a month.

Yuuri filled that time by packing his things - his books and study materials, any clothes he could go without until leaving day. In a few weeks it would be Yuuri’s twelfth birthday, and he would be leaving a few days after.

Minako and his father would be going with him on the long flight to mainland Iroquois, where Celestino would be meeting him. Then they would continue travelling on to Érié Strait. Yuuri was beginning to dread the coming day.

He had been to several places on the continent on research trip with Minako-sensei over the years, farther than either of his parents, but they had always come back within a few ways or weeks. The notion of leaving his home town for what he knew would be more like years was terrifying. He’d never been unable to see his family, or Yuuko or Takeshi, even if all his studying had somewhat pulled him away from their lives.

Not being able to see them, Yuuri didn’t know how he was to feel about that. He’d have to talk in common too. He’d learned it alongside the everyday normal words used across the archipelago, since most books and scrolls of magic were written in Common or Old Ruthenian, but he’d only had to use it in Piter and Dominicus. How was he going to manage using it every single day?

The looming date daunted him, and to distract himself he tried to spend as much time as he could with his friends, but they were busy too. Takeshi and Yuuko were already being drawn into family businesses, and even though they all met up when possible, sometimes they were just as busy as Yuuri.

So, instead, he looked around for his third best friend. Vicchan had emerged from the forest the third time Yuuri went foraging, after his return from Dominicus, wagging his tail, clearly excited to see him.

He’s sniffed his feet, jumping gracefully onto his shoulder to do the same to his hair, barking excitedly before running and doing the same to his broomstick. Then he found Yuuri’s hat, and refuse to move from beneath it, even when it was on head.

Yuuri wasn’t sure how long the dog had lived in the woods behind Yu-topia Akatsuki, but the friendly face was incredibly reassuring.

His mother was much more at ease with him now, so Yuuri left the shoji doors to his room open at night, allowing the pup to come and go as he pleased. He was glad for the company as he packed up his clothes and made notes on his experiments.

Vicchan followed him everywhere, and even helped him organise all his papers as he sat and banged his head against the formulas generating attraction for those damned ‘ _Elixirs of Eros_ ’. He even ran out and came back with ingredients for him, the ones Yuuri had trouble getting to or finding, like a lichen from the high hills he needed for a project.

He eventually made a nest at the bottom of Yuuri’s wardrobe, until the young boy patted his futon one night, and the pup all but teleported to the spot beside him. The night before Yuuri was to complete the familiar potion, he wandered around irritably, rushing off after the birds and even a squirrel that came to close to the engawa.

It was strange, but Yuuri simply rolled his eyes, and asked the dog to go find some dried eels to go in the bait potion he was making for the man who sold his best fish to the inn every morning. Vicchan glared at the squirrel with a warning growl, then darted off to find them. He really was smart, and Yuuri fussed over him appropriately when he returned triumphantly with the eels.

Later that night, cuddled up with his companion, he couldn’t help hoping that Vicchan would stick around, even if he did manage to find a familiar.

The next morning dawned early for Yuuri; he always had woken early living in the onsen, but now that his training was stepping up, the only person up before him was his mother to start the morning cooking.

His day started helping her with breakfast until his father woke up, followed by Mari. They would attend to any guests in the dining area after their own breakfast, then for Yuuri it was either into the small study room his parents had set aside for him (far from the guest-rooms where the smells wouldn’t be so strong) or down to the small house Minako owned.

Today, he went straight to the brewery to unearth his potion, only for his utter dismay at the sight; it was gone. The was noting in the cauldron. He’d watched and monitored it every day, just as the book Christophe had sent him instructed. It had been full to the brim the night before, and yet there was nothing.

Scrambling for his book, he poured over the words and relaxed a little; apparently that was supposed to happen. Of course it was. It was an effervescent, a potion which disappeared when its purpose had been reached. But… that begged the question, if it had worked… then how did he find his familiar?

Glancing back at his book, it detailed meditation, allowing the image of his familiar to come to him in his mind. With the visual image, if the connection with his magic to his familiar had not already been formed, it would be done, and Yuuri would know where to find his familiar.

Ugh. Meditation. Yuuri _hated_ meditation. It was half the reason he’d never taken to enchantments as easily as potions and witchcraft. Minako had taught him the basics, and after potions the spell formulas were easy for basic enchantments, but he was no good at the clear mindset required for such delicate spellwork, no matter how beautiful the spells felt.

It just made his thoughts spiral into the kind of mind space entirely unsuited for enchantments.

With a groan of frustration he grabbed the book and his usual bag, and quickly made his way down the hill to his mentor, Vicchan nipping at his heels.

Minako was sitting looking out on her garden, trails of silken magic thread hovering through the air as she wove a lace-like spell with gentle whispers and iron words.

“You’re early this morning,” she mused, not looking away from her work. “What happened?”

“My familiar potion… it dissipated like the book said, but I need help meditating to find my familiar, if it worked…” Yuuri ventured. Minako knew better than anyone how easy it was for his mind to change track.

She opened one eye, gently fading the spell. “Let’s get to it then, we should practice anyway - I can’t send you to Celestino without some way to help with meditation. You’ll need it, and it’s not really his area.”

Yuuri, reluctantly nodded. Celestino was well versed in the new types of magic Yuuri wanted to pursue, but none of them required much in the way of mental magic, but Sorcery would be an exception to that.

They settled into a familiar routine; Yuuri had tried sitting cross legged the way Minako did, but the sitting position he’d learned at home, feet tucked beneath his body, kneeling on the floor as though there were a guest in the room, was much more natural, if not comfortable.

Yuuri settled into it with ease. Minako's voice floated calm and soft through the air, and he did his best to mimic them letting his thoughts stray from reality and into a self-inflicted daydream of calm.

It didn't take long for something to float into his mind, an image or feeling maybe. The forest behind Yu-Topia Akatsuki, thick green branches that blocked out the light so acutely the locals had called it the midnight forest.

He could almost smell the damp and feel the crunch of the dead branches beneath his feet. Minako's voice no longer guided him; instead he looked around, his eyes going to a source of bright, warm light. A small globe that glowed between the branches.

As he got closer, he could she a darkened silhouette - not completely dark. The light from the orb revealed a pair of familiar dark eyes, perhaps golden coat and an elongated snout. The eyes however, stuck outcries most, and all I a sudden he could feel it - the magical presence intertwined with his own.

Opening his eyes with a start he looked at to his mentor in excitement. "Minako-sense I! I did it! The potion worked!"

"Congratulations," she smiled proudly. "So you think you've found your familiar? " she asked. "I can give you some spells to help locate them. Witchcraft has a lot of good ones in that regard."

"Ah! There's no need!" Yuri said quickly. “I just didn't know what to look for before!"

His eyes fell on the small poodle pup curled up beside him. He'd always suspected that Vicchan wasn't actually a poodle, no poodle stayed the size of a puppy forever, but he hadn't realised why. "You can stop hiding Vicchan," he said, scratching his ears. "No-one's scared of you here."

The poodle glanced at him in earnest, and between blinks it was as though the spell was broken. In his place, licking and nuzzling into Yuuri's hand was a caramel coloured _kitsune_.

The rest of the weeks leading up to Yuuri's birthday passed quickly. All of his packing was completed within a week of the leaving date, and most of his study materials and potions equipment were packed and sent on ahead.

The only ones which weren't were two projects Yuuri had taken on after Chris had got back to him with some information from his mentor about completing his potions licence to mastery.

One was Yuuri's first real attempt at a full love potion. Most only caused temporary infatuation or lust. Many attempted to create something with more body, a true version of its name. Yuuri hadn't done that yet though.

The potion he'd made for his surprise exam had been one to generate infatuation and lust, though that in itself wasn't easy either. This time he wanted to try. He wanted to try a different angle on it though. Rather than _causing_ love, wouldn't it make more sense to simply encourage awareness, or an already existing potential?

It seemed like the best idea to him, and so he'd tried a few variations out over the summer, with Yuuko and Takeshi promising to be ' _test subjects_ ’ for his first full brew.

He'd tried to talk them out of it, but had eventually agreed. He knew he would need volunteers for testing it, and laws restricted him from testing on animals. Anyone willing to take part was always welcome in magic and spell development, especially normal humans, whom spells would have the most effect on.

Through a similar idea, he also wanted to try another elusive conception - a potion to provide courage. The night of that exam, he'd been nearly consumed by his unease, he'd nearly flubbed his basic tests from panic until he went through the breathing exercises utilised when he and minako meditated. Then came the after-party, and that had been just as bad. If he hadn't met Chris, he didn’t know how he would have reacted.

He wanted something to take that away, something to take away the irrational nerves that crept up without warning. He'd seen how buoyant his father became after a few bottles of sake, and he wanted something like that, that made a person at ease. Just without the side effects that came with alcohol, like poor judgement and lack of complete inhibition. Yuuri's wanted courage, but he didn't want to be wandering around with ties on his head and face painting on his belly.

Both those potions he had placed in special, spelled containers to keep their properties frozen during the move, until he could return them to a real cauldron.

His birthday was an exhaustive affair for everyone, especially Yuuri; he smiled and celebrated at the large party in the centre of the island, with the bonfires and fireworks the east were known for, stalls for children’s games and plenty of his mother’s home cooking.

In this at least, he enjoyed the party, the celebration. He had fun, playing games and dancing with Yuuko and Takeshi, Mari, his parents, and a few of the other kids he was brave enough to talk to from the island.

There was a slight darkness to his twelfth year though, even as he and Yuuko huddled in their winter clothes, watching the snow fall and the bonfire roar at the end of the night. He wouldn’t be back here again, probably not until they were both grown up.

Sipping hot sake (after all, they would soon be teenagers, hardly children anymore), he made it a point to remember the night clearly; this was home. The warmth of a fire and the magic of winter all rolled into one.

No matter how far away his magical training took him, Yuuri could never forget that.

* * *

_Mr Blue, you did it right,_

* * *

Érié Strait was nothing like Hasetsu. For one thing it was a large city. Not as large as Piter or as vast as Dominicus, but large none the less, and its enormity made it isolating.

Yuuri met Celestino - Celestino _-sensei_ now, he reminded himself - at the frigate base somewhere within Iroquois’ vast borders, and they took a boat upriver to the large settlement. It took the better part of three days, but it gave Yuuri a chance to see the new mountainous landscape, something he’d never seen back home.

Here the mountains towered so high it seemed it might take several days to reach the top on foot, and it was warm. On the opposite side of the world, the seasons were reversed, and Yuuri found even his hat too much warmth to take in the warmth of Iroquois.

Upon reaching Érié Strait, Celestino-sensei took him to a small building with multiple rooms in a large complex, which turned out to be the Wizard’s training school. He explained that he only took on a few students, and due to distances involved provided all accommodations.

Yuuri had been give a small set of rooms and workshop near the gardens, much to his relief. ‘ _Minako asked me to keep you close to nature, said it was a Witchcraft thing, but I heard form Joseph that you’ve started your mastery, so with any luck it will be of benefit. You’re welcome to plant anything you like, just nothing dangerous, and check with the others first._ ’

The others turned out to be an older boy from Piter named Georgi, and the young child who’d animated the food at the banquet, who went by the name of JJ, and apparently was the reason Celestino-sensei’s hair was going grey.

Georgi was actually a student of Yakov Feltsman, but he wanted to learn to cast Enchantments, and such delicate magic was not his first mentor’s forte. JJ had been born to a magical family, and was here to receive his basic education before his parents took over his training.

His rooms were basic, but comfortable, and it didn’t take long for Yuuri ti arrange everything he’d had shipped ahead in order; soon the familiar scent of potions filled the workshop, and his two precious potions were bubbling in gentle contentment over low flames.

Celestino-sensei gave him a few days to get used to the city, adjust to the weather and change in time, and generally get comfortable in his new home.

Then his training began, and it was nothing like what Yuuri had done before. He’d always been in good shape despite his tendency to gain weight - despite his studies, he wasn’t shirked from work in the onsen at home, and it was far from easy, but the first thing Celestino-sensei explained to him was that to use combative and elemental styles, a certain level of body strength was required.

‘ _You don’t have to be one of those overly-muscled idiots you see breaking fire in the circuses,_ ’ he snorted rolling his eyes. ‘ _But magic like this comes from within, its not external like witchcraft, and you aren’t manipulating external sources like with potions - thats why wand use is so common with it. You have to use your own magic, and know how to keep it going._ ’

So, every morning Yuuri began a workout that put all the lifting and guest catering at the onsen to shame. He a diet that was planned out for him by Celestino-sensei, and Yuuri followed it religiously.

Then his real training began; for two years Celestino-sensei drilled him in the utmost basics of wand lore and use, made sure he completed all the drills he was given to increase the strength of his own personal magic. After that, he started the magic itself, and if possible that was even more of a shock.

Spellwork was prominent; Yuuri was so used to wandless magic that learning to channel it to the level needed for such outgoing magic was difficult. It took him two months before he could finally cast the basic fireball spell at all, let alone to any standard that would be acceptable for the Gala or an assessor.

After that, Elementalism - with this Yuuri found he could do the basics fairly reasonably, but he soon hit a wall. Elemental magic required an extraction and manipulation of external magical power much like witchcraft; however, witchcraft utilised the entirety of the source, elementalism utilised only the purest strains of magic in the world.

It went against all his training with minako, and it was slow going. Yuuri was starting to see why there was such a contrast between the number of users of withcraft compared to other schools though; the spells and secondary level magic for Elementalism was _easy_ in comparison to basic witchcraft, it was just the change in style that made it impossible to grasp.

Combative magic wasn’t so bad - learning to harness his own natural ability and strength was interesting, and a completely different style to everything Yuuri had learned so far. It was just learning to go with the rush of adrenaline rather than follow the urge to run away. Celestino-sensei was pleased with his progress though, and set him up with a martial arts instructor to provide a base for the energy he was learning to harness.

It was a slow process, but slowly but surely, he was learning. Another two years after Celestino-sensei started his sorcery instruction, he and Yuuri traveled to Ayutthaya in Mueang to meet and pick up another student, who would be replacing Georgi.

Phichit Chulanont was the first magical from Ayutthaya in over 100 years, and like Yuuri he was a rarity in his home region. Unlike Yuuri, he didn’t have the luxury of a local enchantress to teach him.

He would be late starting his training in comparison to most other solstice-born, but he was keen, excited where Yuuri had been terrified about leaving home. His parents met them at the frigate base, and he buzzed about excitedly, asking Yuuri hundreds of questions before he could answer the first.

At fourteen, Yuuri was still nervous around other people, but the ten-year-old fast became a friend. it helped that the magic Phichit had learned was remarkably similar to his own, and as Phichit learned and relearned his basics, Yuuri was able to offer advice.

Phichit had grown up with the Voodoo traditions of his home, and it was very much like witchcraft in the sense that it was a wandless, natural branch of arcane study.

Phichit was well versed in it, as well as a branch of magic called animism. he worked around animals, utilising their inherent magic to whatever ends, borrowing their strength or using his own to help them.

They ended up sharing the garden to grow their own ingredients and going on foraging trips every week without fail; Yuuri learned just as much from Phichit as Phichit did from him during those times. With phichits help he even managed to create his first spell using a plant from Mueang he wouldn’t have heard of otherwise - a temporary powder which made the caster invisible to others for short periods of time.

The brief breaks into the mountains and lakes, with Phichit clinging to his back as they soared through the clouds, vicchan barking excitedly beneath his had or on the seat of the broomstick, were something Yuuri hadn’t really experienced for a long time - they were fun, filled with the promise of new horizons and adventure.

Phichit agreed to be a test subject for his euphoria potion, which had proved too challenging as a second potion for his Master, and been set aside as an ongoing project. In return, Yuuri found himself pulled into some kind of mass media experiment Phichit wanted to use to share information. Instantaneous pictures on paper or something to share stories.

As he worked wth Celestino-sensei, he continued to work on his potions, and during his third year of training he finally finished his Mastery project.

It had taken ten weeks of sleeping next to a cauldron, two weeks pulling out his hair in frustration, three of crying, fourteen of scouring for ingredients, thirteen of frantically adding said ingredients, twenty of sitting watching the liquid bubble, and a further fifty-two of falling asleep over potions journals, scrolls, recipe books, and scribbling all over his research notes.

It had been exhausting, but he had done it. had it not been for his other training, it might have been finished a lot sooner, but Yuuri was determined.

Celestino-sensei was a hard taskmaster, but he was very pleased with his progress. Though it had taken a while, he’d gradually began to grow more accustomed to the emotional aspects that made Elementalism and Sorcery so powerful.

According to Celestino-sensei it was his biggest weakness with the art; Sorcery demanded absolute mental strength and emotional power. Yuuri was not like that. His heart was easily damaged, and his mind betrayed him often, but as his confidence grew with each success so did his skill.

Celestino-sensei, like Minako-sensei, swore he had natural talent, and while Yuuri didn’t believe that, he _was_ willing to believe that neither he nor Minako-sensei would lie about what he could do, and believed his endless practice had payed off instead.

With fear boiling in his belly and a competitive hunger in his throat, Yuuri took his assessments in his new schools of training, and achieved reasonable results he could rest easy with - he wouldn’t embarrass Minako, Celestino or his family back home.

The culmination of it all was a silver inked envelope from the IMSA that appeared on the doorstep he and Phichit now shared, inviting him to participate in the next Grand Magic Gala. It came five weeks before his fifteenth birthday.

Yuuri didn’t stop pacing around ranting, wondering if the address was wrong until Celestino-sensei woke from the racket, and when he sluggishly looked over the letter, he pulled his now-oldest student into a bone crushing hug in delight.

‘I told you you could do it Yuuri!’ He crowed.

Yuuri’s chest thudded not in excitement, but with something dark and black, the same thing that always sent his Sorcery haywire - fear.

* * *

_But soon comes Mr Night!_

* * *

**SOLSTICE BORN BIO’S! TOP CONTENDERS FOR THE GRAND MAGIC GALA REVEALED TODAY!  
THE TOP FIVE TO WATCH** by _Hisashi Morooka._

01 - Viktor NIKIFOROV

02 - Georgi POPOVICH

03 - Christophe GIACOMETTI

04 - Yuuri KATSUKI

05 - Cao BIN

**PAGE 04 - Waspia’s Witchcraft Wonder, Yuuri Katsuki**

 

> **Home Region:** _Isle of Hasetsu, Wa Archiepelago_
> 
> **Age of Registry:** _ten (Advanced Potions & basic certification), eleven (full certification), fourteen (Sorcery, Wizardry, Combative Magic), fifteen (Potions Mastery, Elementalism). _
> 
> **Solstice Selection:** _Winter - observed by Hasetsu on 29th November._
> 
> **Certified Arcane Schools & Aprenticeships: ** _Witchcraft, Potioneering, Charms, (Minako OKUKAWA), Sorcery, Wizardry, Combatism and Elementalism (Celestino CALDINI)._
> 
> **Familiar:** _Yes_
> 
> **Hobbies:** _Brewing, playing with his familiar, foraging for resources, flying._
> 
> **Goals:** _To master elementalism, and complete current potion he’s developing._
> 
> **Influences:** _Viktor NIKIFOROV, Phichit CHULANONT, Minako OKUKAWA, Joseph KARPÍŠEK._

Katsuki Yuuri, recently turned fifteen, is a recent winter solstice-born from the tiny Isle of Hasetsu (where no solstice-born has been previously recorded) in the Waspian Archipelago, .

The youngest of the competitors invited to the next Gala by the Imperial Magical Standards Union, he’s been pegged as the upcoming competitions dark horse, and so far his records go far in supporting the betters.

His magical history has shown remarkable talent and proficiency since childhood, when he began training in witchcraft with renown with and enchantress, Minako Okukawa. ‘ _My parents just wanted me to stop turning the inn floorboards blue,_ ’ he explains in fluent common. ‘ _I enjoyed it, so I kept going, and got my basic exams. After that it just kept going._ ’

Having trained in Witchcraft mainly, Katsuki has also shown an adept hand in potion brewing, taking the title of youngest holder of Potions Mastery from Christophe Giacometti earlier this year, and was previously awarded a singular licence in advanced potion brewing at aged 10, when he sat his basic magical education tests.

’ _Yuuri dabbled in potions ever since he learned the first few necessary for witchcraft, I encouraged him, but my potions are very poor, and most or his skill comes from books, curiosity, and extra material I was able to curate from some colleges,_ ’ his first mentor, Okukawa Minako explains. ‘ _When we got to his basic tests, he was initially given another novice paper, and was so anxious he didn’t read all the instructions. He ended up putting himself in the position of brewing a love potion for the practical by accident._ ’

Katsuki succeeded, despite his then confusion in brewing a 10-minute love potion, and the Potioneer’s Committee immediately recognised the talent, awarding his advanced licence with the hope he would pursue a master, which he completed earlier this year.

This was a rather silent achievement however, as Katsuki first became a public name during his full listening examinations. Two years after his potions achievements, he became the first ever male Premier of the Bolshoi Witches Coven, and the youngest to achieve the rank at twelve-years-old.

He is currently the main apprentice of former three-time Gala champion, Celestino Caldini, undertaking training in the schools of Sorcery, Combative, and Elemental Magic, where he lives at Celestino’s school with roommate Phichit Chulanont, and his familiar (a spirit from his home island in the Wa Archipelago, which appears as a poodle puppy named Vicchan).

‘ _I’m overjoyed that the IMSU have chosen Yuuri as a Gala candidate; he’s been the most driven of all my students, ever since I first took over his apprenticeship from Minako,_ ’ says Caldini. ‘ _We’ve been working hard over the past few years, as always. Yuuri is definitely a rare talent, and I know he’ll make his friends and family proud!_ ’

Indeed katsuki is a rare talent, which hasn’t been see since the emergence of current magical favourites, Viktor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti.

 

> **HM:** _Hello Yuuri! Congratulations on your GMG Invite! I heard it’s not your only big news this month either?_
> 
> **KY:** _Hello, and thank you! No, it’s not. I completed my potions mastery earlier this month, and my Elementalism has also been certified. It’s been a really busy year,so hopefully Celestino-sensei will let me have a day off!_
> 
> **HM:** _You’ve named Viktor Nikiforov is one of your influences as a solstice-born; what do you think about the comparisons being made between your histories in magic and rise to the Gala?_
> 
> **KY:** _I’m not sure about it at all! I saw Viktor at the Gala when I first qualified, and it was what made me want to study different sects of magic, but I would never go so far as to think we were comparable! I’m a Witch first, and I found it hard to adapt to wand use, and Elementalism! It goes against everything I learned from my first school, so that was very difficult. I like Combative magic, but I also found that difficult._
> 
> **HM:** _How do you feel about your selection for the GMG?_
> 
> **KY:** _Terrified! I wouldn’t even have dreamed this up! I just wanted to learn stuff to help my island out. We’re pretty cut off from the mainland, even Minako-sensei had to move from Naniwa when she began mentoring me, so I want to do what I can for everyone back home. I’m flattered by the selection though, and will do my best in the competition. I don’t like losing!_
> 
> **HM:** _Do you have any specific training strategies for the Gala? You’ve listed Elementalism in your credentials - any spoilers on what your top elements are?_
> 
> **KY:** _I don’t really have anything specific; Celestino-sensei has some plans that I’ve been following, and I’m working with a martial artist to help develop my combative style, but nothing really fancy. Hard work is the best plan for me I think. As for my Elementalism, I can’t reveal all of them - Celestino-sensei wants to surprise everyone, he says - but he says I can reveal that my primary element is Fire._

—picture inset of Katsuki Yuuri and his familiar, a small poodle puppy.—

 

> **HM:** _I’m surprised to see you have a familiar already! You mentioned before the interview that he’s a Yōkai? Do you mind if I ask how many tails he has, for our fellow Waspian readers?_
> 
> **KY:** _Yes, he’s a kitsune, but he’s shy. I think he knew he would make my mother nervous, so he goes around as a poodle puppy. I’ve known him since I was little, before my training started, but didn’t realise he was my familiar until after I brewed the potion. I didn’t even know he was a kitsune until then! He has three tails at the moment, but we’ve been working together a lot, and I don’t think a fourth is far off. I think he’ll have another before the GMG for certain._
> 
> **HM:** _He’s adorable, and I have no doubt he’s strong, fierce and loyal partner too! Thank you for your time Yuuri, and let me wish you good luck in next year’s GMG!_
> 
> **KY:** _Thank you for the support! I’ll do my best and try not to disappoint!_

While humble and unassuming at heart, Katsuki is already well on his way to magical notoriety for his work on love potions, and unprecedented talent in a notoriously difficult arcane school the likes of which hasn’t been given much magical attention since the days of his mentor _Minako Okukawa_ , and Coven Leader, _Lilia Baranovskaya_.

With a friendly but powerful familiar at his back and a steady, well founded and gruelling training schedule, Katsuki is already posed to shake up the Gala.

**COMPETITOR COMMENTS:**

 

> **Viktor Nikiforov** \- _I like anyone who has such a cute familiar, especially another poodle! He’s adorable, like a little Makkachin! Can’t wait to see him at the Gala, and see what his partner can do!_
> 
> **Georgi Popvich** \- _A really nice guy, but definitely not to be underestimated - I worked with Celestino, and I’ve seen his training regimen. It’s worse than what Yakov gives me and Viktor! Lilia is interested too, and anyone that earns her approval is not to be trifled with!_
> 
> **Christophe Giacometti** \- _I can’t wait to compete in the Potioneer’s Exhibition - Yuuri is a formidable potion brewer, as well as a personal friend, and can’t wait to test my skills against him! See you at the potions exhibition Yuuri!_
> 
> **Cao Bin** \- _Always good to see some new faces, and it will shake things up a bit! Witchcraft is rarely used in the Gala, but it’s quite prominent in Manchuria and Waspia, so I’m excited to see what Katsuki can do._

* * *

_Creeping over, now his hand is on your shoulder._

* * *

Yuuri’s confidence wasn’t enough.

Celestino’s encouragement wasn’t enough.

Vicchan’s presence wasn’t reassuring.

The IMSA didnt think to prepare.

Yuuri failed.

He drowned his sorrows at the Celebration Festival.

Following the end of the grand event, Yuuri fled.

* * *

_Never mind, I'll remember you this way._

* * *

Inside a small, traditional cottage, Yuuri was hunched over, hair tickling beneath his hat, and his face was sweating from the steam of his bubbling cauldron.

It was not the only one in the room, and the ‘ _L-shaped_ ’ workshop was full of steam and a pungent mix of herbs and the fizzing energy of magic. Towards the back, eleven more main cauldrons were spelled to work by themselves, producing the most common requests Yuuri provided for the villagers of Hasetsu.

It was the largest room in the traditional house his parents and friends had helped him part convert into a magical apothecary, and it was no longer just the small room and living space, but a fully fledged magical business.

The shorter end was where Yuuri currently sat, at a large table covered in herbs. Lining one long wall was a plethora of books and scrolls and other magical resources, against another his desk, and a drying rack for herbs or even animal skins sometimes.

Part of the wall had been turned into a counter window, which closed with sliding shutters like the doors, beneath which shelves were lined with bottles and boxes and jars and pots, waiting to be collected by the person who had requested them.

Directly opposite that, against the back wall, was a large pine chest with at least a hundred different drawers reaching from floor to ceiling where powders and herbs and other essentials could be mixed into a paper sachet as an immediate remedy, or perhaps a pest repellent spell. Yuuri needed a ladder on sliding runners just to reach all of them.

His small home was still on family land, but on the other side of the hot springs, Yuuri even had a small one of his own.

The workshop had been set up after his utter failure at the Grand Magic Gala, one year previously, and he’d moved back home to away from all the attention, (everything he had always hated), go back to what he’d always loved.

His brewing began to get too pungent for the guests at the inn after a while; he’d known he wouldn’t be able to stay forever, but his family hadn’t let him just move out without help, and had suggested the old private house.

His father helped him turn it into a workshop for him to work in, store things and even put up shelves. Even a few friends and people from the village had helped, especially when the time came to extend, and when an additional wing was needed so Yuuri could live there full time.

His favourite thing though, was a painstaking painted, small lacquered panel with the same words engraved onto the back of his medallion and matching carved logo on the token beside the name - _Katsuki Yuuri ≈ Pharmakeia._

Yuuri himself, had once wanted to pursue sorcery, curses, elemental magic, all those flashy spells with big bangs and bright colours so often found at the magic games and spell crafting awards in the capital. All those things Viktor could do without blinking.

When he came home, depressed and humiliated by his own failure, worried about Vicchan and desperate to escape the attention all magical received, Minako-sensei had told him not to focus on what people liked, but what they needed. He had wanted to take that advice, but he didn’t really believe it was right until he read an article in the news about Viktor.

One quote had stuck out to Yuuri.

 

> **HM:** What is your favourite kind of magic, if you had to pick only one kind to use?
> 
> **VN:** ‘ _Making big spells is always interesting, and often fun despite the headaches they give you, but my favourite magic is simple, warm the kind you’d find at home,_ ’ he’d said. ‘ _That spell that makes the house just warm enough to help you doze off in winter, or the potion at the back of the cupboard for emergencies. The reassuring spells - they’re very simple but sometimes so precise and finicky that even accomplished sorcerers have trouble with them, so casting them takes more skill I think. The magic in them is always beautiful._ ’

After reading that, Yuuri felt reassured. If the man he looked up to didn’t think less of witchcraft and potions, then he felt reassured. Like he wasn’t letting everyones expectations down back home, that just because his magic wasn’t flashy, it didn’t mean his magic wasn’t just as valuable or useful.

‘ _Perhaps it was even more so,_ ’ he dared to dream.

It gave him faith that he’d made the right decision, and threw himself into his new ‘apothecary’, as it had been dubbed by the villagers.

Aside from the large workshop, he had his bedroom, and a toilet, and of course the garden close to the forest where his herbs grew in steady supply. Opposite the building was a path down to the ocean, making it extremely convenient when he had a need for seaweed, mollusc shells, or needed to go in search of elusive pearl oysters for his more expensive and risqué recipes - the ever popular and incredibly complex (or so other people told him) love potions.

He had another room with a use dedicated as a large storage area, and a few animals for ingredients he used regularly. He grew everything he could to cut down on unnecessary expense, including a pond for freshwater plants (that also held a few kinds of fish).

He had everything he needed for his craft, and he liked to think that he did well by his home town.

“Not good! Not good! Not good!”

On any other day, Yuuri would say potions were easy. The potion he was currently trying to make however was not.

Yuuri whimpered as he watched the previously happy, lavender coloured cream begin to hiss and snarl like an angry cat, lumps and sulphurous odour beginning to emmerge. Reaching for a shaker of dried, pounded peppermint he liberally added it in, and his eyes widened as the specks of herbs began to turn it an angry red when they laded.

“Oh no, not again!” He yelped as smoke began to rise. Atop his head, his familiar - who had been watching intently at the prices, whined, and hid back inside the bent battered cone of his hat.

“No, no no! Why can’t I get this right? Maybe if I substitute it for the howl of a wolf instead… its not pride, but-”

Grabbing at a bottle from the shelf labelled ‘ _animal essences_ ’ Yuuri uncorked it, summoning the contents with a finger flick, encouraging it to mix with the unstable potion.

The howl nearly shattered his eardrums, and instead of calming the potion, Yuuri smelled burning and fire. With a shriek, it was all he could do to duck he head back as a small mushroom of magical energy erupted from his cauldron.

Dust swirled amongst smoke in the air, and Vicchan’s startled barks were the background to Yuuri’s scrambled to the sliding doors as his cauldron billowed putrid red smoke.

Coughing and spluttering, he almost threw the paper door to the side, collapsing on the engawa as he inhaled sweet fresh air. Heaving in deeply, he realised he’d lost his hat somewhere in the chaos, but was more concerned with not breathing any more toxic fumes.

‘ _At least it was only the tester cauldron,_ ’ Yuuri mused to himself in his daze, ears still ringing and nose clogged and dirtied with angry purple smoke stains. ‘ _If it had been one of the full cauldrons I would have been done for._ ’

A bark echoed behind him, and Vicchan scrambled across the floorboards, trying to drag Yuuri’s had beneath his tiny body. The miniature poodle stumbled and slipped as he dragged it by the cone, his feet accidentally landing on the rim as he waddled with it across the floorboards.

Eventually he stumbled and rolled into his master’s side, and after dropping the hat on his chest, began licking his face encouragingly. Yuuri ran a hand affectionately through his fur, staring up onto the roof.

“Another failure,” he sighed, before sitting up, donning his hat and covering his face with the collar of his cloak and braving re-entry to the smoking room.

Hauling his cauldron from the brasier, he carried out to the cobblestones, emptying the contents at the drain, taking a moment to pull out a knobbled wand and reduced the concoction to water. Bad enough the spell still eluded him, he didn’t want to clog the drains with his failed potions.

“I really thought it would work this time, but I guess fertility supplements just aren’t stable without the pride of a lion,” he sighed. Vicchan, who had followed, glanced to the gates of the family home where Yuuri had his workshop.

The glance back to Yuuri spoke more than words ever could - ‘ _I told you so,_ ’ his eyes seemed to say.

“I know, but you know how hard it is to get ahold of fresh! I can’t afford to buy it either,” Yuuri groaned, taking the cauldron back inside. While the Bolshoi and Potioneer’s Committee would supply most practitioners with ingredients for a small fee, and indeed stocked rarer ingredients, this particular one didn’t keep well.

It had to be fresh, and Hasetsu was significantly lacking in lions.

Vicchan continued to stare at him. “The nearest spot with any kind of big cat is over a week’s travel from here, and who says I’ll even find one…” Yuuri sighed, hoping to reason with his persistent familiar .

Vicchan barked angrily, running to Yuuri’s writing desk (overflowing with charts and scrolls, paper and recipes). Beside the bottles of coloured ink he used for colour coding and a pot of raven and owl feather quills, was a picture.

It was of his family, and his two best friends, who were desperate to start a family of their own, but had been told by every doctor on the island that they couldn’t have children.

“I know, I promised,” he said, his familiar nuzzling his legs, as if trying to push him towards the door. “Stop that Vicchan! I can’t just leave without warning my customers, or my family,” He scolded, twirling and dancing in a step over the small dog.

Landing on a stool, he sighed, then began to make a list of everything that would have to be completed before leaving.

There were six people who came in for prescription vision spells, weekly doses that helped keep near and far-sightedness at bay, but he could make enough stock for Mari to sell on for him while he was away if he could decide on a trip length.

He had suspected he wouldn’t be able to make the potion of Yuuko-chan and Nishigori without that vital ingredient, but he had hoped he could substitute it for something else.

He really knew better, but he couldn’t just get up and leave that easily, plus he had very little fire experience besides the regular ingredient trips he went on. Most of the time he could order an ingredient if it didn’t grow in the area.

He was daunted by the thought of travelling for such a dangerous ingredient - he was confident in his collection charms, but not so much that me might not be eaten in the process.

But the pride of a lion was just too expensive for a small-time, common-all village Witch like him. If he was going to keep his promise with the Nishigoris, he had no choice.

Not even the entirety of _Josef Karpíšek’s Potion Syllabary_ (which had served him faithfully since he mad that first boil potion) held an answer or solution. If the worlds greatest Potioneer wasn’t able to suggest a substitute, what hope did Yuuri have of finding one?

He had no choice. He had to make the trip. He hated leaving things left like this, but the year was pressing on, and he knew that he would only be able to collect Pride of a lion during the spring and summer months.

It was halfway through spring already! If he left it any longer he wouldn’t be able to make the potion until next year. Vicchan was right, as always. He should have left weeks ago. Groaning, he flopped his head onto the table beside the brasier.

“It’s hay fever season, so I’ll have to make pollen-away, and some of the cure-alls for the kids that go round eating berries…” he mumbled, adding more to his list. “Silent-footsteps for the hunters and bait spells for the fishermen… what else? “

Buckling down to work, throwing dried flowers into his mortar and ranting lists for all the regular spell prescriptions he would have to make up for while he was gone, Hasetsu’s Witch buried himself in his work.

Planning a foraging trip for ingredients was not unusual, but this time Yuuri was more nervous than was considered normal. He had a regular routine for the trips after so many years of practising his craft, but he always liked to go through everything to make sure he was prepared.

Mari would always watch his workshop. She had helped him so often she knew where most of his potion stock was, and could even give out herb mixes that didn’t require spells.

She had stayed with him when he memorised or showed her his plans for a new potions so many times that even without magic, he could bounce ideas off of her, or ask her for reminders about a few things sometimes.

Mari knew which potions to sell, which she couldn’t give out to the elderly or children, which customers might be addicted to their prescriptions and how to gently ensure they didn’t get more that was advised, how to take orders and calmly ask clients to return when he got back from his trip.

She knew how to do all of this whilst making the feel welcome too. Yuuri and Mari were the children of inn keepers, and both of them were well versed in public dealings, so he knew his space would be in safe hands.

Since this was going to be a long trip, he would need to stock up on food he could easily take with him, and would need blankets for the chill at night. He also decided to make a list off all the herbs, plants, animal ingredients, or mineral deposits that he might need.

Since he was travelling so far, he might as well make the most of the time and opportunity to stock up on rare or harder to get ingredients.

For some that meant potion bottles, containers, earthenware pots were also required for collection. By the time he got the cart from his parents and had packed in everything he would need, he was beginning to feel a little excited.

it was one of the things he loved most about his branch of magic though; there was a roughness and reality to it that fantastical fireballs and other such extravagant spells didn’t have. Potions were volatile, and so very easy to get wrong in so many different ways.

They required an understanding of how basic, natural ingredients interacted, an understanding of the earth, the plants, energies of animals, not just the mass of magic that existed in the air.

Witchcraft and Potioneering had their place, but they weren’t always exciting or awe inspiring, and not a lot of the famous mages or enchantresses studied them except during the basic levels of magical education.

But they were functional and the most easily utilised by the non-magical population. At the very least, they were back in Hasetsu. After all there weren’t many cow herds that needed a bottled thunderbolt to hurl at the opposing farm, but a spell to keep the grazing sites free of disease was in extremely high demand.

Yuuri was confident in _his_ magic now. He’d never ever dreamed that he’d be listed as a magical practitioner when he first started using his powers, or that he’d travelled as far as he had, trained across the world, but… he was happy. Somehow.

He’d never be fantastic like Viktor, or Chris but he had managed to carve out a place for his magic in Hasetsu. Even if it would never fit in amongst grander audiences, Yuuri had brought something no-one else could to Hasetsu, and for that he was grateful.

His journey to the mainland wasn’t a long one. His first port of call was exactly that; after a short flight with Vicchan seat on the bristles of his broomstick, Yuuri landed at Meireki, the next port on one of the main islands. From there, the air frigate to the island of Mueang only took a day’s travel.

After a short stop over in Ayutthaya to check in with Phichit, who had moved back to Mueang with Celestino-sensei to continue his preparation for his first Gala, Yuuri made his way out to the edge of the city, watching the expanse of new country in front of him and he positioned himself on his broom.

 _This_ was what he liked about magic, the places it took him, the things he could see, the things he learned, safe in the knowledge that Hasetsu would always be waiting for him.

With a bark from Vicchan, he kicked off into the air. The wind whipped around his cheeks as they rose higher into the air, and when they were high up away from prying eyes, Vicchan even dropped his disguise and soared through the air beside him.

Yuuri didn’t know it yet, but this journey was the one that would change his life forever.

* * *

_Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why you had to hide away for so long; where did we go wrong?_

* * *

The terrain of Mueang passed below them, and after several days travel, Yuuri had gone far beyond the tropical region, into the mountains of Říp that bordered lower Ruthenia, and with this, he decided to stop and make his camp for the duration of the trip.

The area was known for its big cats, including mountain lions, and leopards, and it was the the best place to find what he was looking for. After setting ups camp, using a few simple spells to catch himself a grouse for dinner.

After cooking the meat and sharing it with Vicchan, he started getting to work. On the journey, he had been working on some potions that would mimic the scent of the animals he was trying to find, so that he would have more luck finding one.

His plan was to scout out a few easy places where he could make traps, add the false scent, and later go back to observe the traps from a safe distance until something showed up.

He’d already collected several samples of other ingredients that he knew would be useful, and were impossible to get in hasetsu, but he was here for Yuuko and Takeshi. He’d never made it to their wedding thanks to the Gala the previous year, and he refused to not give them this.

They were his oldest friends, had supported him through thick and thin, and had even been at the gala for the final matches. They had sent so many letters through his training years, even visited Érié Strait once. How could he every repay them for all that support if he couldn’t use his magic - the very thing the had supported him with - to help them have a child?

He knew he could do it. He just needed the damn lion. A female and male preferably, since he’d have to make two different potions, but any kind of big cat would do at this point.The most he could get off the animal the better really, there were many potions that utilised ingredients from big cats.

It might be worth trying for a hunt, rather than just siphoning the magical element he needed, though he had no idea how he would get the carcasses home (he’d definitely have to use a spell for that, probably a wizarding one). Settling down beside the fire he’d made, he lifted an arm for Vicchan to snuggle beneath, smiling at his curly coat, scratching his ears affectionately.

“We’ll have to work tomorrow boy, think you can help me sniff out a few of these big cats?” He asked. Vicchan yipped, then snuggled closed, though his tail still flicked, indication he was keeping watch for the night. Reassured by Vicchan’s protective presence, Yuuri let the stars lull him to sleep.

The next morning dawned early, even in the mountains, though it had cooled significantly. Yuuri was glad he’d cast a spell to lengthen the fire, and it seemed vicchan had dragged a few extra logs onto it to keep themselves warm through the night. He would have to reconsider the campsite - maybe find a cave - but not now.

After some more of the grouse for the morning meal, Yuuri picked up the tools he would need for his traps and together he and his familiar set off once they had break their morning camp. It took about four hours to find a set of tracks that looked promising.

Following the rounded treads in the snow was easy enough, and eventually, vicchan’s nose brought out a pile of scat that looked reasonably free, but also old enough that the owner might be returning to the area soon.

With Vicchan’s aid, Yuuri found a spot which had been used for scent marking, and having already identified the tracks as male leopard, added a scent of a female to the rock which (judging by Vicchan’s growls) were dredged in pheromones.

He waited around the week, but there was nothing, and things only went downhill from there; Vicchan injured his bad foot on a root stump hidden beneath the humus of the mountain forest, and the weather turned from mild and windy to a complete snowstorm.

They managed to take shelter in a cave Yuuri completely stumbled across, but keeping Vicchan warm and close to his body heat as he stumbled through the snow had done him no favours either. The nest morning he woke up with a shivering fever, glad that he had thought to learn conjuration from Celestino.

All his belongings had been soaked by the sudden snowstorm, but his second mentor had prepared him well; thanks to some wool, flax, and cotton he kept in his traveling kit, he was able to conjure himself a few extra blankets (though the haphazard edges and sizes betrayed how his magic was affected by the state of his body).

With delirious mumbles about his idol never conjuring something triangle shaped, it took all his concentration to to spell a fire into being. He could have uses an elemental spell, but Yuuri didn’t trust himself not set his own hair on fire after making the blankets.

Vicchan was still able to walk luckily, and he Brough small creatures he hunted to the fire place, allowing Yuuri to get his strength back. It wasn’t until he had retained control of some of his faculties that he was able to got through his pack properly and inspect the damages from the storm.

All the important things he’d brought were still there, tools, cauldron, dry herbs, his belt of pouches for instant spells, extra food supplies, but he cried out in dismay when he found that all the ingredients he’d been picking up, along with the bottles of scent, had been lost on the way to the cave.

Could he make more? He had the ingredients, he’d packed plenty form hasetsu, but was it safe? If something was nearby and caught the sent during brewing before he had time to prepare a trap, he could be vulnerable.

It would take several days to brew, and Yuuri wasnt keen about chancing his safety like that unless he had no other choice. After giving himself some more time to eat the lizards vicchan had brought - roasted till the skin was crispy - and swallow a potion to try and clear his head, he reluctantly bundled himself up, and started out in search of the bottles.

He placed tracking spells on all his belongings when he travelled - a trick he’d picked up from Phichit, who had a habit of losing his notes - but he couldn’t sense them anywhere when he muttered the recall spell. Nor could he orientate himself very well. The surrounding area had looked very different in the storm.

“Can you smell anything Vicchan?” He asked his familiar, who was poking his head from beneath his hat again., nose and head looking around critically for sights or scents Yuuri might have missed. Amongst the dim snowy light and thick pine branches.

A whine - ‘ _There’s nothing! The snow has washed all the smells out!_ ’- indicated no.

“We’ve got to find that bottle,” Yuuri muttered to himself. “Even if we don’t find the other ingredients - its not safe to make it here, or leave it lying around. If someone finds it I could get in trouble.” It would be considered very unprofessional to leave something like that lying around where it could harm local flora and fauna unnecessarily.

Yuuri had free reign to hunt any animal he needed for basis of his magic, but there was a level of responsibility expected. Leaving a bottle of pure unadulterated cat pheromones lying around was distinctly not. He had to find it! Animals could open it, or lose, what if some normal hunter opened it?

Yuuri didn’t want to think about what would happen if-

The sound of an piecing shout of alarm filled his ears, and vicchan barked, floating out ahead of him, his normal body plain to see in his haste, followed by more yips and barks as he darted ahead.

Yuuri followed, glad that he had taken his potion; he felt the branches of the trees scratching his face and snow powdered into his hair from their disturbance. It creaked beneath his feet as he dashed through it as fast as the inconvenient drifts would allow.

“-tay back! Is anyone here?! Someone help- Stop! Get back, stop following me! I’m not Yura! Where did you even come from?!”

Yuuri frowned he knew that voice. He was sure he knew that voice, but where did he know it from? Ignoring the familiarity of the cry when there was another sound of alarm followed by a vicious snarl. Vicchan yipped and barked, carrying on ahead, out onto a clearing where a hooded figure in a short hooded shoulder cape and black boots stood.

Yuuri then saw the trio of snow leopards that were trying to edge forward, and the opened bottle in his hand. ‘ _D’arvit!_ ’ He swore, descending from common into the rapid Viteilútian swear words Celestino had used.

“Put the stopper back!” He roared, wanting to strangle the stranger despite himself. Honestly, the man’s cape indicated he was a magical - Yuuri recognised the pattern as easily as the village family symbols - so he ought to know better than to unstopper anything without a label!

“What? Oh, thank god!” The man said, trying to turn, only to dart out of the way as one of the cat edged forward, letting out a yelp of alarm. “I’m sorry, I can’t! I already spilled it trying to open it!”

Of course he had.

“Take your cloak off!” Yuuri called out. “Just give it to them!”

As the man moved to do that on of the cats lunged, forcing him into an evasion that spoke of combative magic training, but backed him up towards a ledge of stone. “Ah… I think they’ll eat me if I do that!”

Yuuri took a deep breath and wracked his brains, trying to think as he circled the clearing, trying to find a way to get to the man without getting eaten.

There were some animals that had resistance to magic. Things like scent could be tricked easily, but the earth wasn’t so serene as to let the creatures that inhabited it with humans away without protection. Cats like these were one of them - magic only worked on them for a certain amount of time.

‘ _Phichit would know exactly what to do here,_ ’ Yuri bemoaned to himself, managing to scramble up an outcrop of rock behind the man and the three cats closing in on him. ‘ _I knew I should have asked him to teach me more!_ ’

Looking down he could see the stains of the option on his cloak far more clearly. He also had a wand holster strapped to his thigh. What to do, what to do? He hated coming up with things on the fly. What did he have with him?

Wait, his spell pouches!

“I’m going to throw something down to you!” He called out. “Make sure you catch it, then throw it when I say! I’ll need your help catching the two on the left!”

“Catch it ok- Wait, you want to catch two of these beasts?!” The man blurted; your could see his head shift, trying to find his voice without taking his eyes off the now angering animals. One of them snarled, gnashing with its maw. The magical yelled, backing into the rock.

Yuuri grabbed one of the small bundles one his belt, holding it over. “Only if there’s time!” He promised - he wasn’t that hopeful, but it would save him a lot of trouble. “Catch this, when I say so, throw it in their eyes!” He called out, dropping the pouch after his words. “Vicchan! Can you help him distract them?”

His familiar yipped, jumping down onto the mans head and then to ground in front of him. He jumped between each of the animals when they came too close giving the man; the package caught, Yuuri wove his hand gestures, mumbling the ritual words, focusing the energy.

“Close your eyes and throw it now!” He called out, reaching the end of the incantation. The man hurled the powder towards the three cats as Vichhan sheltered in the mans hood. “ _Fjerne_!” Yuuri cried, desperately, pouring as much energy and power as he could into the spell.

There was a flash of white, and then he found his chance. Jumping down, he grabbed the mans arm. “This won’t last long!” He blurted, dragging the man back into the forest, pulling up his broomstick. “We need to get out of here, grab hold!”

Indeed the temporary blindness had enraged the cats, and their were recovering, one already heading for them. The stranger wasted no time, grabbing hold of his waist before Yuuri kicked off into the air.

“Amazing!” He cried as they sped through the air, just avoiding the snap of a claw.

Yuuri felt like stoning the man, but he saved his exasperated lecture for landing at the cave he currently called home - it was far enough away that the smell wouldn’t be picked up.

Once feet touched the ground, Yuuri looked at the cloak. “Is this your first cloak? Is it of significance?” He asked.

“No, it’s just for traveli-hey!”

Yuuri yanked it off the stranger’s head, there it to the ground, and without a word hurled a ball of flame from his palm.

“I’m sorry but that potion would never come out,” he apologised. “But why on earth did you open it? Didn’t your mentor teach you not to open unlabelled potions?!” He demanded, focusing the fire, making sure it burned out the scent in the air too, till all that was left of the cloak was cinders.

“Most likely, but I wasn’t expecting to find another solstice-born out here!” he hear the man say, still focusing on the burning spell. “I was exploring and when I saw the potion I got curious! I certainly wasn’t expecting to find you here Yuuri!”

Yuuri groaned. This man knew his name. That meant he’d seen the disastrous Gala. Or maybe he’d take part too? Once the spell was finished, he finally turned and felt a whine escape his lips. He recognised the man easily - how could he not?

It was the Imperial Magical Advisor.

It was the man he had idolised thought his magical career.

It was Viktor Nikiforov.

* * *

_Mr. Blue Sky_

* * *

This fic is inspired by the adorable, gorgeous art of [Banacotta](http://banacotta.tumblr.com) which you can find [here](http://banacotta.tumblr.com/tagged/apothecary-au)! It is in the process of being Beta-ed, but I'm impulsive :P Also I'm a potato and stayed up till 2am doing a report for tomorrow which isn't actually due, so I was panicking for nothing ~~(re: cause I'm an idiot who didn't read her planner)~~ and wanted to cheer myself up. I will update with actual grammar and spelling at a later date :) 

This chapter is also ~~significantly~~ ~~somewhat~~ influenced by '[Mr Blue Sky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQUlA8Hcv4s)' by _The Electric Light Orchestra (ELO)_.

I'm sorry for so many words ~___~


	2. Help!

_Help! I need somebody! Help! Not just anybody! Help! You know I need someone - Help!_

* * *

In a small world of magic, one would think there were no rules. However, there were some rules, and it was ironically magic itself that had formed the need for its own restrictions.

Like rules with regards to animals, and magic that didn’t work on them, and the very basic rules like not opening unexplained potion bottles. It was one thing for a young solstice-born to make this mistake, but quite another for the Imperial Magical Advisor to do it.

Yuuri knew he should be angry, should be disillusioned maybe, but he wasn’t. Viktor Nikiforov - the man who had inspired him to expand his training, his idol, idol - was standing right in front of him and Yuuri was fairly certain he had just set his cloak aflame. The red matched evenly with the fiery licks sprawling and swallowing the thick winter fabric, and finally, Yuuri dared to look at Viktor.

He stared for a moment, then scrambled back a few steps, _just_ to be sure. No, he might still be a little delirious from his fever, but he was certain that this Viktor was in fact real. No, that was a lie - what possible reason could _Viktor_ have for being out here, let alone talking to _Yuuri?_ He was definitely still feverish.

For a hallucination however, Viktor’s appearance was quite accurate. Like all solstice-born, his ears had that slight point at the top (Yuuri's ears were always hidden by his hair) and a couple of small plaits of grey hung along his neck, fastened with spell-stones. His blousy shirt was tucked into black trousers, and now he was shivering because Yuuri had burned his cloak.

The garment once had a thick, warm inner layer, and the flames of Yuuri’s spell had been all too eager to singe and sear the lining, staining the air with the rancid smell of burnt fur. It was smell which made Yuuri feel terribly, terribly sick. Trying to stave off the wooziness he shrunk down into the ground, hiding his head in his hands.

 _At least,_ he thought to himself, _I've got the brains to hallucinate something pleasant._

"I must ask since you seemed so keen, did you really want to catch two of those animals?"

Yuuri blinked, looking up to Viktor, who had conjured himself another cloak from somewhere, a pinkish one with purple edging and golden fur (it was also adorned with proper fasteners, and certainly _not_ triangular like Yuuri’s. "Huh?" he mumbled intelligently.

“The beasts, the snow leopards,” Viktor said simply. “Did you really want to catch them?” He asked curiously, seating himself on a rock.

“Uh…” Yuuri was still trying to process the image in his brain. “Oh!”

The _leopards!_ They would no doubt be wandering about somewhere, but his chances of catching two easily were gone now. They would have been a good option too, and he could probably have sold some parts he couldn’t store.

“I was planning to, but it’s a lost cause. Without that potion, I probably won’t find any, and I can’t make it out here. It’s too powerful.”

“Indeed! I honestly thought I was going to be eaten!” Viktor laughed, a bright, wonderful sound which Yuuri was sure he was hallucinating. Maybe his fever potion had gone off; when had he brewed it? “What did you need them for? A potion? What kind?”

Yuuri stared at Viktor again then gave up on trying to rationalise. Instead he absently downed another fever potion, then got back to his feet. He couldn’t let himself be distracted from his goal - not even by Viktor Nikiforov. He’d promised this to Yuuko and Takeshi. He was their last chance.

“I’m making a fertility potion for two of my friends, they’re struggling to conceive, and the physicians have all told them it’s impossible for them to have children,” he explained. “I know I could help them, but I need some things from those leopards! There was a male and female too,” he sighed.

“That makes a difference?” Viktor asked curiously (that probably should have been Yuuri’s first warning but either through delirium or desperation, he chose to ignore the sign). “Wait, that potion I spilled, did you made it to attract them? Can't you make it again?”

Yuuri's shook his head despondently; he would have to think of a completely new method of attracting the animals.

"It's too dangerous to make in an area like this; it's much stronger when it's being brewed," Yuuri explained. “I made it while I was travelling and didn’t think I’d need any more.”

"Well, if it was that important, why did you drop it?" Viktor comes his head to one side. "I found it lying with a bag of plants and feathers and bones!”

"There was a storm and I got sick," Yuuri snapped irritably - unable to help himself at the thoughtless tone. "I came out to look for it - wait, you have my ingredient bag?"

Viktor nodded with his smile still wide, pulling a familiar bag from his shoulder Yuuri had been too shocked to notice before. "I thought it might belong to someone, so I kept hold of it - I was searching when those three brutes attacked me! I tried using some magic but as you saw, it failed."

Taking the back Yuuri couldn’t help smiling in relief; everything he’d picked up on his trip was still safe! He’d cast a containment spell on the bag, but wasn’t sure if it would have stood up during the storm or not. It seemed that everything was still there though.

"Snow Leopards are immune to ice magic," Yuuri said absently, still checking his bag. “They _are_ snow cats.”

"As I have discovered," Viktor said sagely. "But now that I know better, would you mind if I offered you my assistance in reclaiming your quarry? To say thank you for rescuing me!"

Yuuri jerked his eyes back to the fuzzy image of his magical idol. Either he’d taken too many fever potions or, his eye tincture was wearing off. Quite probably both.

“You want to help me catch two snow leopards,” He repeated disbelievingly

"Of course! I've never hunted before, but I'd love to help you gather potion ingredients! Will you be gathering some for your Love Potions? Or the Essence of Frivolity you were working on? Which is your favourite?”

‘ _Essence of…?_ ’ Yuuri had no idea what he was talking about, but managed to shrug it off. If it was important, he'd find out later.

"If I see something that could be useful when I’m foraging, or something I can’t normally get hold of I pick it up, but my main priority right now is the fertility potion for my friends," he said. “You only got attacked because I dropped the potion in the first place, are you sure about this?”

“We are both accomplished, fully qualified solstice-born,” Viktor beamed. “I’m sure we can manage to trap a couple of big cats between the two of us, don’t you?” he asked with an encouraging wink.

Yuuri couldn’t say much to that; he knew it wouldn’t quite be so simple, but he needed those leopards, desperately. He might have failed at his career to everyone but his parents, but he wouldn’t fail his two closest friends.

And so, Yuuri found himself discussing magical theory and spell creation with the Viktor; between the two of them, it took at most an hour to come up with a prospective plan to trap the beasts.

Viktor would come up with a lure spell that would attract the animals to the area, and it was Yuuri’s job to come up with something to either knock out or kill them. Either would be acceptable.

Yuuri didn’t like the idea of killing such beautiful animals, but the ingredient couldn’t be extracted from living ones. It didn’t take Viktor long to write his spell, but for Yuuri, who wanted something very gentle that would ease them into a permanent sleep, it meant a little foraging.

Viktor insisted on joining him, and Yuuri soon realised what a horrible suggestion it was. Viktor wasn’t unpleasant, quite the contrary, he was so friendly Yuuri almost didn’t know how to handle it. He was glad the he was somewhat dopey from the medicine, else he would probably have been a stammering mess.

No, the problem was that Viktor, for all his brilliance, had never made much more than a basic boil cure in his life, and it showed in his curiosity. What should have taken 20-30 minutes became a two-hour foraging trek for the berries and roots for the smoke drug he intended to make.

Viktor’s enthusiasm was endearing though, and even with the hazy picture his eyes were giving him of his idol, Yuuri patiently answered each and every question victor threw his way.

“Why can’t you just chop it?” He was one asked.

Viktor was sitting cross-legged on a mound of grass he had spelled into something chair-like opposite Yuuri’s campfire and portable cauldron. Yuuri looked up from the root he was shaving in horror.

“It would be too strong - the fumes would probably kill us along with the leopards,” he said simply.

“I always thought atropa was one of those made-up ingredients in potions, it's really that poisonous?”

“In its pure root or berry form, just a bead of the juices would stop your heart, permanently,” Yuuri nodded, blearily noting that the magical cologne Viktor was wearing smelled like his apothecary (when he hadn’t been busy blowing up cauldrons in an attempt to make a new potions).

“It has such lovely flowers though, almost the same shade as your hair!” Viktor mused, looking at one of the plants they had gathered rather wistfully. “Very beguiling, don’t you think?” He asked. “It’s so much more than what it appears!”

“It has its uses besides hunting,” Yuuri reminded him, pulling out a hair from his head before pausing. ‘ _Like murder and poisoning_ ’, his mind added helpfully. Did he add the hairs now or later to ensure immunity? He was sure it was after the addition of the dried Bikh.

“It can make a good stimulant - I use it for a man with a weak heart back home, but only if foxglove isn’t in season,” he added, throwing in the hairs and reaching for a vial of powdered eggshells - _wait_ , he paused, his vision wavering over the potion, dimly aware of Viktor’s rambling in the background.

How much of the root skin did he need to add after this? He was sure it was only a few pinches, but there was a foggy feeling surrounding him that made it hard to remember.

The fumes were thick around his head as he started at the purple shimmer of the potion. Now he knew it was wrong - wasn’t it supposed to be red by this point? Red like blood. Did he need to add blood? He didn’t remember it in the recipe.

Looking through the folds of his cloak, he pulled out a beaten, battered book. It was held together with detachable cords, stuffed with paper notes, and had a worn, blue leather cover; upon examining one page, Yuuri frowned at the words, turning them upside down.

“Oh! Is that your book of shadows? I’ve never seen one before! Lilia always scolded me when I asked to see hers!” Viktor gushed over the cauldron, his eyes transfixed on the cover. “Can I see yours?”

Yuuri blinked, trying to remember if he’d just done something he shouldn’t have; normally not even Minako saw his precious notes, only Vicchan. Vicchan. Where was Vicchan?

A growl from beneath his hat answered bot his and Viktor’s question, and the sorcerer quickly backed away, startled by the strange growling hat.

“No,” Yuuri said, reaching under his hat and scooping Vicchan out from beneath it to rest on his shoulders. “Its private. I keep my research in here. These are my spells, so they wouldn’t work for you anyway,” he shrugged. “But it’s rude. I wouldn’t ask to see your spellbook.”

“I don’t mind showing it to you if you’re curious - do you want to see my spellbook Yuuri?” He winked.

“What would I _do_ with it?” Yuuri asked in confusion. “I’m a Witch and Potioneer, not a Sorcerer or Elementalist. I don’t use wand spells,” he reasoned, going back to the root skin dilemma. “They’re just not my strong suit.”

Vicchan whined, nuzzling his cheek, licking his ear with more small noises, and Yuuri reached his clean hand up to rub behind his little ears. ‘ _I know, it wasn’t your fault Vicchan,_ ’ he said to the pup with the silent gesture.

Viktor was unusually silent, and he kept his gaze on the potion for a moment as the familiar yipped at his master until his nuzzling brought a dopey smile back to his lips.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Yuuri said, finally throwing the atropa root skin into the small cauldron. “I just meant there’d be no reason for me to see it.

“I’m sure you could find a use for it, Yuuri,” Viktor smiled until a hiss and crackle drew his eyes back to the potion, and he blinked. “Wow! It’s splintering! Is that because of the atropa root? Can I put some in?”

By the wills of the four solstices, Yuuri couldn’t possibly have argued with the pleading expression on Viktor’s face if he’d tried. With a reluctant sigh, he held out the bowl of powdered root skin.

“No more than a pinch,” he warned. Viktor nodded with a bright smile, doing as instructed. The potion continued to crackle, harden and splinter satisfyingly, and no harm was done.

Then Viktor absentmindedly tried to lick his fingers clean, and Yuuri nearly knocked the potion over diving forward to stop him.

“I just told you it was poisonous!”

Viktor threw his head back in laughter as they untangled themselves, and Yuuri began to wonder if his niggling headache was entirely from the fever.

* * *

_When I was younger - so much younger than today - I never needed anybody's help in any way._

* * *

Despite Viktor’s assistance, the potion was made with no problems, or at least, none that Yuuri’s clouded fever-mind could see. Viktor had made the summon spell within half an hour, so all they need was a place to lay their trap.

After pitching the campsite, they headed off, and it took a lot more effort for Yuuri to focus as the day progressed; the snow was thick and cold, seeping into his boots despite the waterproofing spells, and he felt the tingling pink of the chill air across his ears and cheeks.

Beside him, Viktor was watching their surroundings curiously, and Yuuri could only hope he was taking notes. He was sure once his head cleared would have no idea where he was, but he didn’t care. This was about Yuuko and Takeshi.

Eventually they met the river, and stayed alongside it, following it down the valley, eyes alert and ears poised for sound. Vicchan quickly identified some fresh scat, and they found paw prints in the snow.

There was as least one leopard close by; they just needed a place to catch it. The branches blocked out the sun for the most part, and the branches provided little help to any manoeuvrability that would be needed in the attempt.

Then they came across the waterfall. Where the trees met the cliff wall, a broad flat expanse had emerged, the treelike falling back from the frozen river with plenty of space. The river itself was slow, and as they looked down from the edge of the plateau onto the scene below, Yuuri knew it was the best spot they would find within range if the leopard they were tracking.

“Can you cast the spell from up here?” Yuuri asked, blinking blearily at the edge of the precipice over the river clearing below.

It wasn’t until he’d asked the questions that he realised how stupid it was. Viktor was the Imperial Magical Advisor now, the rising Gala champion since he was twelve years old! Of course he could cast something as mediocre as a ranged summoning spell!

“I have no idea, I’ve never cast a summoning spell before,” Viktor mused, his eyes flicking to Yuuri. “Are you alright you look a bit… unfocused?”

‘ _What?_ ’

“What?” Yuuri asked in shock. “You’ve never…?”

“Well, I’ve never had to use ingredients for any of my magic before, not for anything beyond a boil cure at least,” Viktor laughed. “But I’m confident that I can pull one off!”

“Oh, okay then… have at it,” Yuuri shrugged, gesturing grandly with his arms at the space below them, wobbling slightly but jumping back before he could topple over the cliff. It wasn’t too far, but he wasn’t keen on the idea of falling into cold snow, or ice.

Viktor didn’t move, watching Yuuri oddly. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked again.

“I’m fine, I’m from Hasetsu - this cold isn’t any worse than the winters back home, and I can warm up but those leopards won’t wait.”

Viktor laughed again - and a small part of Yuuri’s mind rejoiced at the sound. Was he really standing here on a magical quest with the best Sorcerer in the empire? It was like something out of the books he used to read as a child! Well, except for the part where the main character was a normal human, but Yuuri was minor enough and so unmemorable as a solstice-born that he might as well be.

“If you insist,” Viktor said, stepping up to the ledge, pulling out his spell book and checking over his workings.

Yuuri just remembered to step back so as not to peek at the private tome. Snapping it closed, Viktor began to weave his hands in the beginning of an enchantment, the familiar intense rush of internal magic and-

The wind blew past their faces, for a moment, then Yuuri felt the rush; he had to concentrate and squint with his less-than-stellar eyes to see the web of delicate pink trails - a net - when he focused on Viktor’s spell, watching it sinking out from them into the air and down over the snowy clearing.

It was as breath taking as the first spell Yuuri had seen him cast, when he defeated Cao Bin at that gala seven years ago with ice and sheer raw power.

A second wave of magic burst out from Viktor, flowing out around them with pulsing opalescent light - Yuuri wished his eye potion was still working so he could see it properly. Finally, the magic faded, dissipating into the ground to take hold and begin its work.

“How long will it last?” He asked Viktor. “Do you think?”

“Probably about half an hour? I didn’t want to make it too long in case it didn’t work,” Viktor said. “I can always try something a little different if need be. But are you sure it will work? Those cats were immune to my ice magic.”

“They’re not immune to everything, they followed you when you opened that potion bottle after all, I think it’s just ice magic in particular,” Yuuri pointed out.

“How are you going to get your poison down there?” Viktor asked looking down over the ledge, crouching down into a squat. “Throw another bottle?”

“No, I infused it into this,” Yuuri said unwrapping a tight, dried ball of mud and crushed herbs from a piece of cloth. “It’s a smoke bomb.”

“Wow!” Viktor beamed. “That makes things easier. We just have to wait for something to show up.”

“More or less,” Yuuri nodded, stowing the smoke bomb away again carefully, and reaching under his hat to remove Vicchan.

They were waiting for several more hours, and in that time, Yuuri let his mind wander again. How was all this happening? What were the chances of Viktor running into him in the middle of the mountains?

He was still half convinced this was a hallucination; there was a dark ring on the edge of his vision that heavily suggested he was tired and ill, so it was still a possibility. Yuuri felt that was more likely than the reality, but he could also smell the fumes of his potions and hear the rustle of protective herbs sewn into his hat, feel their gentle reassurance, so he knew that this wasn’t made up.

It wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t hallucinating. He was really sitting here, hunting snow leopards in the Říp mountains with his magical idol. They’d talked about poisonous potion ingredients, sniped at each other like casual acquaintances, or equals.

 _‘Of course I’m hallucinating,’_ Yuuri groaned to himself, flopping into the snow as they waited, before the feel of a hand on the back of his neck jerked him back up in shock.

“Your feel a little warm,” Viktor said, his light, friendly voice subdued by worry; Yuuri jerked out of his gaze enough to realise that the back of his hand was had moved to rest against his cheek, cool and pleasant against his skin.

“ ‘mm a fire user, so I run warm,” Yuuri shrugged, starting away from the touch in shock, turning his focus back to the ledge. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by his hallucinations or idealisms - he was here for one thing only, the leopards, and their combined contribution to his potion.

From beneath his hat (again, how did he get back under there?) Vicchan yipped quietly, his paws nudging Yuuri’s head in the direction of the forest edge below. Seeing them movement, Yuuri ducked down into the snow, pulling Viktor with him.

“Sorry,” he apologised as the Sorcerer yelped in surprise. “Something’s here,” he said in a hushed voice, pointing down to the clearing below.

Padding out into the silent white field was a large male leopard, his paws treading deliberately and with purpose into the snow as he headed through the clearing.

The snow falling around their heads was dusting over his whiskers as he lifted his head, twisting it around, loping body following its every move with. He watched everything, as if there was something unendingly fascinating about the space that had been touched by Viktor’s magic.

Yuuri couldn’t blame it in the slightest.

“Should we wait a while?” Viktor asked, his voice hushed so as not to be carried by the wind in case it broke the spell.

“I only have one bomb,” Yuuri replied as equally careful with his tone. “It seemed to be holding him here, let’s wait a little longer.”

And so, they waited; the cold seeped into Yuuri’s cloak, hurried in the snow as they were. He’d done his best to cast a warming charm earlier, but he had to conserve his magic for the smoke bomb, not to cast it, but to contain the poisonous effects it would release, and knew his control was negligible.

The dark ring on his vision was no longer slight, but a firm presence, and the effects of his eye potion had long worn off. Everything was blurry, but he couldn’t remember where his glasses were, and he was chilled to the bone from the wet and cold.

He had to be careful. He couldn’t waste this chance. He knew that he could extend his trip, stay longer, but these mountain cats weren’t exactly sociable, and Yuuri knew that if he missed this chance he wouldn’t get another one like it.

The recipe called for the pride of a lion, but the snow leopards were much more suited to the exact dynamics he needed for his friends. Leopards where inherently more magical than lions, hence their immunity to some magic; it would only strengthen the resulting potion if he could garner the extracts and other supplementary ingredients he needed from these big cats.

He would not waste the opportunity.

Yuuri managed to retrain himself for another half an hour, until the big male, who had been pacing and circling the area affected by Viktor’s spell throughout. After that, he started to get closer and closer to the edge, and Yuuri knew he couldn’t push it any longer; if he waited more, he’d lose the male, and the recipe didn’t _technically_ need more than one extract (he just wanted to improve on the basic potion).

Raising his arm into the air, he took aim and hurled, using a small surge of magic through his body to add fore to his throw, help the smoke bomb fly towards the Leopard’s feet. It hit the ground, and the great cat was swallowed by the grey smoke that erupted around him, encouraged by Yuuri’s magic. Focusing with an outstretched hand, Yuuri willed the smoke to stay within the restraining, delicate blanket of power he surrounded the Leopard with.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri was too busy concentrating to notice, but Viktor’s eyes had seen what his did not, and the man barrelled into his side, breaking his focus as they tumbled over the edge of the cliff down to the snow below; Yuuri only had moment to see a clawed whitish paw swipe at the space they had just been occupying before the ice beneath their landing gave way.

The freezing water sunk into Yuuri’s aching limbs, sharp and fierce like the leopardess, and his breath was forced from his lungs at the sudden cold, but he managed to kick his legs and force himself to the surface. Viktor had already pulled himself from the banking, a soaked cloth over his mouth and nose to protect him from the now free roaming poisonous cloud that had spread through the air.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, shivering as his magic slowly extracted the water from both their clothes. “My lure spell, we were inside it, that’s why she came after us…” he explained.

Stumbling to their feet, they watched as the leopardess jumped down from her perch atop the ledge they had just fallen from, eyes keen on her prey. Fantastic.

“Can you use a spell?” He asked Viktor hopefully.

“I could, but we’d probably be blown up right along with the carcass… I don’t know any small ones,” Viktor said, voice quiet, trying to cover them with an illusion spell — the leopardess kept looking straight at them, his failure quite obvious. “What are your elements?”

“Fire, water, and earth,” Yuuri muttered. “But I’m not a sorcerer - I told you earlier!” he insisted. “I’m a witch! It just doesn’t work right for me when I try anything that needs a wand!”

“What about if you did it without a wand then?” Viktor asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re well versed in Wandless Magic, aren’t you?”

How did Viktor know that? Yuuri desperately wanted to know but was more concerned with their current problem; they were about to be leopard lunch, with said leopardess in question being immune to Viktor’s magic, and his own woefully inappropriate for hunting.

“Because that’s not how it wor-”

The vicious snarl of a pouncing cat cut him off mid-sentence, and any chance of a plan went up in smoke as the leopardess surged at them, changing her target in anger and growling intermittently, those giant claws swiping and carrying her across the snow and ice almost faster than either of them could avoid.

Yuuri in particular was having trouble focusing now; his breathing was ragged and the cold that had been seeping out of him from Viktor’s magic had been cut off. He was as cold as ever, and could hardly see straight in front of him. It took a burst of combative magic into his muscles and bones just to stay out of the way of the leopardess.

Sensing his possible weakness, she had started to focus on him, and an angry yip from beneath his hat was the only thing that saved his hide. Shooting free from his spot atop Yuuri’s head, Vicchan snarled at the cat attacking his partner, blasting her with a burst of magic and pushing her away.

“Thanks Vicchan,” he mumbled, getting to his feet, eyes on the big cat, stalking towards him once again. Before she could get more than five feet closer however, a ball of snow pelted her in the side of the maw, and her attention turned snarling and perhaps more irritated than before to Viktor.

 _That… that idiot!_ He groaned to himself - hadn’t they already established that Viktor’s main defensive magic was too destructive for close range or otherwise ineffective on the cats? Now he was distracting her with _snowballs_?

That, or he was hallucinating again. The snowballs certainly seemed to be more forceful than anything Yuuri had ever thrown at Mari or Yuuko and Takeshi, since one of them appeared to have cut her muzzle.

Focusing on the magic in the air, he realised they weren’t just snowballs; they were infused with Viktor’s third best element of choice - _ore_. The malleability and shine of gold and strength of iron that Viktor’s spells were known for, that made people call his success fate.

He looked weakened though - as shaky and pale as Yuuri felt. Seeing his face without the cloth, Yuuri cursed; the smoke was affecting him! It wouldn’t kill him, but even with the immunisers Yuuri had added for them both, there would still be after effects.

He had to do something fast, but what could he do? By now he was under no delusions that he was anywhere fit for fighting. He barely had the magic to keep himself moving! He’d be flat on the ground without it right now. He had enough magic of his own to conjure a spear using witchcraft, but not enough time for the ritual to work.

As if sensing the desperate thoughts in his partner, Vicchan came to his aid yet again; Yuuri felt the familiar wash of magic from the kitsune flooding his body, and instinctively pulled out his wand, casting the ritual as he did with his own magic and using his partners for his spell.

“ _Taimatsu!_ ” He blurted, using the first and strongest elemental spell that came to mind, gritting his teeth as he struggled to control the pure strain of fire within the stream of magic Vicchan had used to strengthen his personal magic store.

A surge of tiny, dancing bright white fireballs sizzled from the air as if from the burn of sunlight itself, and the magic left his body like breath being knocked form his lungs, and the fireballs raced towards the leopardess.

With rapid flowing gestures, he began the wand movements which controlled the orbs, landing then to the ground allowing them to skim across the snow, burning through it to the earth beneath.

Using the extra strain of magic there, he let them pick up the extra strength and substance; then he took breath, and focused. Of all the elemental spells he had managed to learn, this was one of the few he had taken to the best.

Celestino had told him about it, a fire spell cast by Wa’s first ever solstice born, fluid and shapeless or solid and stable with no set pattern, the very pinnacle of all fire spells, the very essence of the element it was born from.

The spell couldn’t be directed, the caster had to let it move naturally, had to _feel it_ through the rigged webs of elemental magic that inhabited the world, then let it go. It would only be as big as it was given natural development to be, but it was easily identifiable from the signature explosion.

It was could be as gentle as an ember, or stronger than any other fire spell. Theoretically, if you could master it, you would never have any need for another type of fire manifestation. Vicchan had taught him the spell, and he’d worked on it for two years, but he had never got the chance to use it at the gala. He’d been saving it for the final round he’d dreamed of, and never made it to.

The orbs of viciously hot white light began to stream ahead of each other, the back trail disappearing and repairing in cycle shat sheared through the air in a trail of sparks towards the leopardess, then with his last fragment of concentration, Yuuri quickly let fly releasing to building pressurised weave of magic.

The spell took instant effect, coalescing into a single orb, then combusting in a burst of flame and spark that lit up the entire clearing a blinding incandescent white.

The force wasn’t enough to do more than blast the leopardess off path from Viktor, but it did give Yuuri the chance to use reap the rewards of his ritual, and summon his own magic back in the shop of a lethal wooden spear that shot straight through her.

Clinging onto the last dregs of magic, Yuuri quickly swamped the clearing with a basic potion neutralising spell before he came back to the real world. Casting so much magic in succession always left him in some kind of strange time jump.

It always seemed to take a lot longer than a few moments, and when he stopped, he always felt dizzy. Especially after using that much magic. A head full of fever didn’t help either, and his limbs were shaking as he settled.

Stumbling around in a circle to check he hadn’t accidentally destroyed everything instead, he was met with Viktor’s astonished blue eyes.

“Yuuri… was that… _Kitsune-bi?_ That was amazing! I had no idea you could cast something like that! Not even Mila of John-Jack can cast that spell, and you even combined it with- Yuuri…? Yuuri…!”

That bright blue was the last thing Yuuri saw before he completely blacked out from exhaustion, with the idle thought that maybe, _just maybe_ , he’d made up for all the trouble he’d caused his idol.

* * *

_But now those days are gone, and I'm not so self-assured; now I find I've changed my mind, I've opened up the doors._

* * *

 

When Yuuri awoke, it was to a soft, warm bed and a worried fox muzzle licking his cheek. After a few moments, he realised that it wasn’t a bed at all, but his sleeping mats and blankets at the cave.

Groaning, he hurried himself back under the covers before daring to open his eyes when a pair of familiar paws touched his arm through his blanket. Vicchan yipped anxiously, his wet nose touching to Yuuri’s affectionately, and he smiled.

“Hi Vicchan,” he said, reaching an arm out and scratching the ruff of his neck with a couple of fingers. “Were you looking after me? Thank you.” Vicchan yipped, nuzzling him again before barking with a slightly harsher tone than before.

Yuuri flinched sheepishly as he sat up, Vicchan scuttling over his legs. “I know, I’m sorry boy, I worried you didn’t I? But it was for Yuuko and Takeshi. I had to get…”

He broke off, looking at something at the cave mouth. Right there, by the opening were two carcasses. Blinking Yuuri’s hands fumbled around for his glasses, before remembering he still didn’t have them. Staggering to his feet instead, it took a little negotiation to make his way to the cave mouth.

Still wrapped in his blanket he was stunned; it was the two leopards. Had he managed to catch them after all? Had Viktor really been there? No, that was stupid.

What possible reason would Viktor have to be all the way out here, and why on earth would he be interested in helping _Yuuri?_ It was just his imagination getting away with him again, delirium and magic coalescing into a delusion of grandeur and fantasy that was entirely too real.

Bending down to check the two cats, Yuuri frowned; the preservation spell was too low level to suggest when he had cast it. It was such a simple one after all, but it was working, and Yuuri thanked the solstices that he’d had enough foresight to cast it at all, given how awful he’d felt during the hunt.

But he’d done it! He caught the two leopards he needed, and once he got the carcasses home he would be able to get started on the potion for Yuuko and Takeshi. He was their last chance, and knowing he wouldn’t fail them now made him feel infinitely better already.

A gust of wind picked up with the scent of fresh snow in its wake, and he sneezed - not quite that much better, but at least he was at a starting point now. Shivering, he let Vicchan bark and scamper around his feet, ushering him back to the pile of blankets and warm fire beside it. The leopards would keep.

Right now, he needed to rest, and slipped gratefully back beneath the covers after warming up a drink of tea, and what looked like some meat broth that had been prepared. He didn’t even remember making it, unless Vicchan had used his magic to conjure it for him?

It didn’t matter - the food was warm and nutritious, and with some water to wash it down, Yuuri fell back under his blankets to a slow and steady recovery.

After several days, he was strong enough to go through some basic magic that would help recharge his personal supply, Vicchan barking and intervening whenever he felt his human partner was pushing himself again.

Once those were done, Yuuri began the spell that would shrink the leopard carcasses into his bag, which had also magically been found.

His hazy memories made some very stupendous suggestions as to who might have done so, but Yuuri refused to believe fever dreams for anything but what they were. The reality of them was frankly more terrifying than he could deal with.

With that thought prominent in his mind, he took a last watch around the camp site he'd been occupying, making sure no trace of magic was left, or any personal belongings. He refused to be that irresponsible again now that his head and mind were clear.

Happy that everything was packed away safely, Yuuri seated himself on his broom, giving a whistle for his familiar, who was busy burrowing into the snow just in front of the cave mouth.

“Vicchan, come on, we need to leave if we want to make it back home by the end of the week! We need to pick up the cart from where we stowed it the when the storm hit too!” He called out to the small fox.

Vicchan whined, looking to his hole even as he jumped up onto Yuuri’s shoulder.

“It’s a very nice hole. Your digging is very good,” Yuuri assured him. “But mum isn’t scared anymore you know,” he chuckled scratching the pup’s ears before hoisting him up to his usual spot. “You can be a Kitsune sometimes too.”

Vicchan gave a short, low ‘ _ruff_ ’ as Yuuri gently kicked off from the ground.

“I know, I know, and you’re a fantastic poodle, but just so you know. I bet she’d fawn over your tails for you if you showed her,” his human chuckled; the absence of their former telepathy since the GMG had never been a hindrance. Just like him, Vicchan had his own anxieties.

Quickly turning and heading in the direction of where they had left the supply cart (Yuuri had spent several months after the gala adapting it to be suitable for broomstick flight), they rose into the air and sped away from the cave.

The air was calm and quiet in the winter of the mountains, and the tailwinds of Yuuri’s surge into the air blew the last of the snow from Vicchan’s valiant effort at hole-digging.

Had Yuuri looked back, and seen the last fragment of Viktor’s red cloak, charred and tattered from the fire he’d consumed it with, he might have reassessed his level of fever hallucination.

But with his mind already filling with plans, of leopard carcasses to prep, formulas to plan, and potions to brew for his two friends, he didn’t spare the cave mouth a single backward glance.

After locating the cart, and hooking it up once again to his broomstick and loading everything up, the journey back to Ayutthaya didn’t seem to take as long despite the heavier load.

Yuuri was eager to get back and see his best friend, so he might have pushed a little magic into the winds that furled around him. The scenery of the cold mountains soon passed into that of warmer and more temperate arable lands and rice fields not dissimilar to the ones back home.

As he flew overhead, he saw a few people waving, and reciprocated the greeting. Most of them were kids, but he didn’t stop. After an overnight stop, he ploughed on through the clouds until the small town of Ayutthaya came into sight., nestled into the crook of the large ox-bow lake that glinted under the hot summer sky.

Phichit was at home with his sisters when Yuuri found him, being harassed and fussed and shouting in spitfire Mean, one of his precious dragon eggs held protectively in his arms until his father finished the argument after rolling his eyes for Yuuri’s amusement.

The three girls cowed, blinking owlishly at Yuuri, before the elder man ushered them off down the street and a much calmer set of instruction to his youngest son.

“Did you get it? Please, tell me you got it!” Phichit begged, leading Yuuri and his belongings out to the back of the house where his nurseries and voodoo workshop were located; his friend had promised to help him prepare and skin the spoils of his expedition.

“I got something, I’m not sure what it is, but I definitely got something,” Yuuri shrugged. “Well, Vicchan did at any rate. I told him only to look for old nests though, so I don’t know how viable it will be. I only put a preservation charm on it just in case like you said,” he said, producing a small green and blue speckled egg ribbed with black and gold from the inside pocket of his cloak.

“Oh, Yuuri! Sweet solstices and eternal equinoxes, it’s an Eastern Egg! I never thought I’d see another Mueang Green Claw after Isra!” Phichit squealed, scooping the precious jade orb from Yuuri’s palm. “Come here little one, Uncle Phichit will make you better, I promise! No mean magicals will hurt you ever again!”

Yuuri rolled his eyes as Phichit started cooing away to the egg like Yuuko or his mother did to the babies they came across, but fondness spoke volumes over the exasperation. Phichit had asked him to be on the lookout for certain types of eggs during his journey north, specifically for dragon eggs. Achieving his mastery in Animism two years ago had given him the distinct and terrifying authorisation to work with dragons.

Rare and nearly extinct from years of misunderstood persecution, it had been Phichit’s dream to earn the rank necessary to start his growing nursery and breeding centre. Yuuri had been sure to pick up any old or discarded shells or cold eggs from nests long dead en-route, of which there were sadly many.

Dragon eggs took a long time to die without the breath of their parents to warm their nests, up to fifty years. Many across the world were in this condition, and some had been rescued, but some were simply too old to respond to heat.

Phichit was unique amongst other Animists in that he was also a Bokor, which gave him a bit of unique training in curses, including necromancy (mostly illegal, but studied for some medicinal work in voodoo, potions, witchcraft, and some types of enchantments). With his - by magical interpretations - bizarre mix of education, he had been developing some spells that would slow the chill and decay, restart the developing embryos.

It had been the subject of his mastery assessment for both arts, and he’d proven it with the birth of his first dragon, his familiar Isra, an egg he’d found in the forests surrounding Ayutthaya long before he ever met Yuuri or Celestino.

Phichit had kept the tiny egg on his person all the time, keeping it warm with his magic, insistent that he could save it no matter how many times his father tried to sneak it back out to the frosts as a child, or Celestino tried to spare him disappointment and suggested a familiar spell. His entire career had been dedicated to that egg, and Yuuri couldn’t be prouder of his friend for achieving his dream.

Phichit was applying for the Gala this year too, and Yuuri was hoping to go watch his friend in the competition.

“Yuuri, you are the best friend a man could ask for! Let me just get this bean settled in the nursery then we can start on the leopards! You need to tell me about the rest of your trip!” Phichit crowed, dashing into the blisteringly hot greenhouse where he was already supporting and healing another three dragon eggs, along with monitoring a clutch of gryphon chicks.

There were blistering balls of heat hovering below and beneath the frames for each of the eggs, and a roaring fire burned beneath the floor, with walkways spelled over it. The gryphon chicks were under the usual heat lamp for chickens, in an extension that didn’t nearly have so much claustrophobic warmth.

Even for Yuuri, who shared a main element of fire with his summer-solstice born friend, it was incredibly warm, if pleasant enough for his magic.

Once Phichit had set up his egg and locked the dragon nursery, they headed into his workshop to begin the long and laborious task of preparing the two leopards. He had offered his help in preparing Yuuri’s ingredients, whatever they were, and right now Yuuri couldn’t be more thankful.

For one tiny ingredient, it was a lot of work, and having Phichit, whose own background had just as much ingredient prep and consideration made the prospect a great deal less intimidating. Settled on some old blankets on the floor after collecting them (with the help of Phichit’s father), they began their work.

“So? How was the trip?” Phichit asked, working a small sharp knife over the male to help section the pelt before removing it. “Did the lure potion work or did you end up using a spell after all?”

“I’m not sure,” Yuuri admitted ruefully. “I err… I got caught in a snow storm and got sick. The whole thing seems like a bit of a dream. I think I cast the spell in the end, but I must have dropped or lost the potion for a while.”

“Yuuri! You know better than to try and use magic when you’re sick!” Phichit scolded, his frown deepening. “I wish my spell share magic was ready, that would have been perfect. You could have asked me to come help.”

“It’s fine, Phichit, Vicchan kept an eye on me,” Yuuri smiled, reaching up to scratch the pup’s ears when he poked his head out from beneath his hat to say hello to Phichit. “I could have done without the hallucinations though.

“Hallucinations? Yuuri, tell me you didn’t use those month-old fever-potions you carry around with you!” He scolded again, nearly throwing his knife into the wall with his arms waving everywhere. “This is exactly what happened last year after the GMG Celebration Festival! In Parthenope! When Ciao-Ciao introduced us to his niece and nephew, and _you_ wanted to go looking for Unicorns!”

“They are expensive to buy, and Viteilú is the only place you can legally catch a wild one outside of Manchuria and Albion! As if I’d let that chance slip by because I was drunk,” Yuuri protested, carefully making slices with his own blade. “Of course I took the potion - and only one of them was off!”

The fact that he only knew about this because Phichit had told him about it was beside the point. His parents had been trying to get hold of a unicorn for _years_ , and he could hardly not try!

They had magical uses beyond belief and didn’t need to be killed for them either! Besides that, they were as strong as three horses, as loyal as any dog and as kinder than most humans. Having a living unicorn on Hasetsu to help out at the Onsen, even if not native, would be a blessing from the solstices themselves. It would certainly save Yuuri a small fortune in potion ingredients.

“Well, it’s not like I don’t get it. I’d have given my right foot to catch one of those things too, but you can’t solve everything with potions or elderflower wine Yuuri,” Phichit sighed. “Was it really that bad this time? You were pretty out of it in Parthenope; you were giggling about love potions the whole way back to the competitors’ guild.”

Yuuri groaned. “I dreamed him up Phichit. So vividly…” he said, before explaining the downright ridiculous picture show his fever-tripped brain had provided for eyes.

Phichit shook with poorly concealed mirth as he railed the story of how useless Viktor was at potion making, nearly killing himself with the Atropa. With the rest, he was less amused - ‘ _You fell in a frozen river? Yuuri, you could have died of hypothermia or drowned!_ ’ and ‘ _You’re insane! You cast Kitsune-bi with no magic? Of course you did, sorry I forgot who I was talking to!_ ’ were just two of the disbelieving and acerbic replies.

“…then I woke up back at the cave with the carcasses, I figured Vicchan must have teleported me back,” Yuuri shrugged.

They had stripped the hides off of both carcasses now, gutted them, organised what could be used in potions into three piles; one for Phichit, for his help (his friend was keeping most of the meat for his few dragon hatchlings, along with some other useful potion and ritual ingredients), one for Yuuri, and one for him to put up for sale.

Absolutely nothing would be wasted, not between the two of them; given that the lives of these creatures would be helping him for years to come now, Yuuri only hoped that that made up for the sacrifice.

Getting into the pride had been the most difficult part, but those two parts were safely now stored in separate, clearly labelled vials inside Yuuri’s cloak. All that was left was to dry out the skeletons, which they could do by cleaning the bones and putting them in the greenhouse for a little while.

“That’s impossible Yuuri,” Phichit blinked, his words so clear that Yuuri’s head snapped straight, and dropping what looked like a femur on his toes.

“What?” Yuuri winced, hobbling after Phichit (who also had an armload) after reclaiming the femur from the ground.

“Vicchan, after the accident…” Phichit bit his lip. “Kitsune don’t have the magic stores to teleport until they have three or four tails. You _know_ that, Yuuri.”

“Oh… I completely forgot,” Yuuri mused, waiting as Phichit opened the door to the nursery again. He hated thinking about what had happened to Vicchan, but Phichit was right. He only had one tail now. He couldn’t even use his telepathy anymore, let alone teleport. Yuuri must have taken the leopards back then, with whatever magic he had left or a supply of Vicchan’s.

Poking out from beneath his hat, the pup barked at Phichit rapidly; animism magic granted Phichit an understanding of all creatures that Yuuri had tried and failed to replicate, and his friend’s eyes widened slightly as he listened to the fox.

“…Oh,” he murmured after a few moments; Yuuri's eyes flashed between them in confusion as the bones were shifted into the heated nursery.

“What? What did he say Phichit?” He asked curiously. He really ought to read up on Animism more, like Phichit had started with Witchcraft, but all his reading time went into his love potion research right now.

Phichit stared at him for a moment, then sighed and looked back to Vicchan. “You’re right. He wouldn’t,” he sighed. “Just his version of events; he said you’d be lost without him to keep you in line,” he added for Yuuri’s benefit.

Yuuri beamed and scratched behind his familiar on his ruff. “Don’t I know it,” he smiled. “How are the hatchlings?” He asked as the last of the bones were placed in the greenhouse to dry. “You promised to show them off for me.”

Phichit instantly brightened with excitement. “Oh Yuuri! You’ll love them! They’re getting so strong now! Isra has been keeping watch over them, and they’re following her like ducklings - you should see her _preen!_ She’s so _proud!_ ”

And with that eager jubilation, Phichit led him to another building, from which small cheeps and squeaks could be heard. The baby dragons were adorable, flitting underneath Isra’s legs and mane, stumbling in their haste to greet Phichit as he came in, or clambering all over her beautiful jade horn.

Isra herself was getting into her prime, 22ft at least now with a beautiful copper mane and golden scales (which looked like fur at first glance). The jade of her horn glinted in the sunlight, and she greeted Yuuri with a croon and several licks to his face, before crooning to Vicchan. She had been half the size when Yuuri saw her last year, the day of his departure from Érié Strait, but was as cuddly and friendly as ever.

After the bones had dried, and everything had been organised and sorted, which took a good portion of the day, Phichit’s father had finished making dinner - a chicken dish in a lemony, spicy green sauce and fragrant rice, and a dish of chilli grilled pork with chopped shallots and lime juice. It was all delicious.

But much as he would have liked to stay and get to know Phichit’s father more (they had met several times - he was a thin, but strong, small man with shining pride and love for his entire family), and his little sisters (who adored Phichit to extreme).

But it was a cool, clear night, and if he pushed himself through the winds with some magical assistance, he could be home and ready to start work on the potion for Yuuko and Takeshi. He really couldn’t afford to be away from the Pharmakeia if he could avoid it.

There was one last thing though; Phichit wanted to go flying again. He begged and pleaded and Yuuri finally agreed to a short flight around Ayutthaya. He didn’t mind the flights - they used to do it all the time when they were going on their own ingredient expeditions whilst training - but it had been a while since he shared a flight with anyone.

“This never gets old!” Phichit whooped as the sped over the city lights, watching the traffic below them, wind tearing through their hair and cloaks snapping around them. “I can’t wait to fly with Isra! This is amazing!”

‘ _Amazing!_ ’

Yuuri laughed and broke into a dive, pulling a shriek of delight from his friend, and forgetting any echo from his words. It had been a long time since he has enjoyed magic for what it was, and couldn’t help indulging.

They flew for longer than he planned, and of course Phichit’s gaggle of sisters wanted turns too. By the time he was ready to leave, the sun was already beginning to set, and he knew he’d need a vision potion and Vicchan’s eyes if he were to fly home through the night.

He could return on the air frigates, but Yuuri was feeling impulsive, and wanted to fly.

“I’ll see you next time I’m through? Unless you come visit first,” he said, hugging his friend once his cart had been packed up.

“I’d never pass it up! I want to check out the old nests you mentioned; there might be a lost breed Yuuri! Imagine how exciting it would be!” Phichit gushed. “And I’d love to see all the Yōkai!”

“And meet my family,” Yuuri chuckled.

“That too,” Phichit added with mock nonchalance. “Yuuri, can I ask something? Yuuri nodded. “Are you going to compete in the qualifiers for the GMG this year?”

Yuuri blinked, not expecting the question at all. The qualifiers were actually individual competitions within which solstice-born on the competitive circuit could track their progress against each other, or even just maintain their licences. Some arts required them to be renewed.

By competing in them, points were earned based on placement, and usually the combined points were totalled up the year before the next Gala. Those who made enough were invited to compete.

Yuuri had competed in them before, but not for points, and his invitation to the Gala had been direct, so he didn’t have any. If he wanted to compete again, he’d have to think about how he planned to qualify (there were three different methods).

He’d earned a starting fifty points for finishing in the top ten of the last gala, but he hadn’t even given it any consideration, and hadn’t really been keeping up his training besides his potions and witchcraft. He’d been focused on his Pharmakeia, and wasn’t sure if he even wanted to compete again.

“I don’t know Phichit, I haven’t been training like you and… I don’t know if I can. I don’t know If I even want to. And I’d have to get ready for some of the qualifiers.”

Depending on field of study, solstice-born had to compete in certain events to qualify for the GMG. Those who studied Animism and Potioneering competed in the bi-annual Research Exhibition. Sorcerers, Enchanters, and Charmers had the annual Spellcrafter’s Summit. Then there were the quarterly Military Examinations for the Imperial Soldiers, Elementalists, Combatists, and Anti-Magic practitioners.

Everyone else fell into the Independent category, which was normally due to smaller numbers of competitors in the fields. Voodoo, Wizardry, Divination, Witchcraft, and Empathy all fell under this spectrum, along with many other arcane schools. For these options, qualification came through a separate exam that began before the main GMG known as the Independent Arcana Fair.

He didn’t know how either to go about it though, considering his first gala had been by invite; he’d never had to compete to qualify for his first gala (though Celestino-sensei had started talking about it as the qualifying season approached).

Yuuri bit his lip, remembering the disaster of the final that came with the memory of his invite; he’d almost lost Vicchan! How could he event think of bringing him back to that kind of environment again? “I don’t think I’ll compete again Phichit - I won’t put Vicchan through that kind of danger when he’s still recovering. It isn’t fair, and I’ve got my Pharmakeia to think about. I’m happy in Hasetsu,” he said simply. “I’m so-”

“Don’t even say it!” Phichit interrupted pulling him into another hug. “It wasn’t your fault Yuuri! You have nothing to apologise for! I’d have done the same thing! I wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to Isra. I was just curious - will you come watch me? Viktor’s supposed to be going through the qualifiers this year too since his last three invites have passed, and I’m terrified!”

Yuuri smiled. It would be good to watch both his friend and his idol compete in qualifying tournaments; because he placed in the top three, Viktor usually got an invite to the next Gala automatically, but after so many consecutive years, he had to re-qualify this year to compete.

“I wouldn’t miss it Phichit, not even for the Viktor,” he assured his friend.

“Such high praise from Waspia’s Witchcraft Wonder!” Phichit mock gasped. “How can I cope with the pressure?” He laughed, holding Yuuri tight, both teens taking reassurance in the years of support they’d given each other. Phichit knew better than anyone how he felt, and Yuuri never had to hide anything from him. Likewise, Yuuri knew how to decipher bravado and genuine cheer in Phichit.

With a few more farewells, and a gentle nuzzle at his cheek from Vicchan, Yuuri kicked off up in to the setting sunlight looking towards home. He had work in Hasetsu calling him.

* * *

_Now my life has changed in oh so many ways, and my independence seems to vanish in the haze._

* * *

Yuuri reached Hasetsu mid-morning the next day. The fight had thankfully been a pleasant one, and the winds only became unruly as he got over the sea stretch from Mueang to the mainland archipelago. After stopping to pick up some extra things in Meireki, it was an even shorter distance to his island.

It loomed under cheerful under clear skies, the long surrounding beaches fading into the small fishing port at the base of the hills. Up in the air, Yuuri could see to the north of the island where the paddy fields were, south to the fishing huts, and there, right in the centre at the highest point was his parents’ onsen.

Not far from it, Yuuri could see his Pharmakeia, its own small spring and the fields and large pond he’d set up with his magic over the past year. The bamboo and courtyard, flower and herb patches and his own small greenhouse for the plants that needed warmth like Phichit’s hatchlings. The forest seemed to blur into it at one end, the rock and stones of the emerging hot spring to the other, and below it the craggy face of chalk white rock and the small path that led down to the beach.

It was like having a small private one, thanks to the natural rock and sea erosion of the island, and Yuuri was tempted to land there just to dig his toes into the warm sand grains. But no, for one thing, he had some ingredients to put away and potions to check.

Swooping down into his courtyard with hardly a whisper (a far cry from his fort broom landing, he slid open one of the glass door to his ‘cauldron wing’ as his mother called it. A few glances and sniffs at the colour, texture, viscosity, and scent of the individual potions spelled to self-brew told him that they were in good condition and no accidents had occurred.

Mari was sitting by the service window, scanning her eyes through the local Bulletin, hair pushed back as usual and a cigarette in hand. Vicchan’s bark was what drew her eyes from the text and she smiled as the pup jumped up for a greeting.

“Welcome back, you look…harassed. Tough trip? Did you manage to see Phichit?” She greeted, standing up and greeting Vicchan as Yuuri removed the spell that had been on his many, many cauldrons. 

“I did, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t without incident, but I got what I needed, so it all worked out eventually,” Yuuri said, looking up before poking his head back out of the doors and snapping his fingers at the cart.

The bundles and crates and jars and pots floated up out and onto one of his long tables, ready to be unpacked before he went for a soak in the Onsen, followed by a decent nap. “Any purple ink?" He asked. Mari nodded, pointing to his desk, where a small pile had developed.

"How was the shop? Mum and dad?" He asked, picking up the letters. One was from Celestino-sensei (which was probably to ask the same question as Phichit), one from Phichit himself, one that seemed to be from Christophe, a couple more names he vaguely recognised (including J.J), and finally a silver inked letter that could only be from the IMSA.

Quickly opening it he scanned over the words and felt his stomach sink. ‘ _Despite usual practice, following the accident at last year’s event and the unexpected danger which befell your familiar, we would once again like to offer you an unconditional place in the 713th Grand Magic Gala, and once again apologise for the trauma caused by the inadequate arena…_ ’

Yuuri dropped the letter onto the table, ignoring it even as he read over the others, chatting to Mari about the trip. One of the letters was from the Bulletin reporter who had interviewed him after his first invitation had been publicly announced. Morooka Hisashi, he used to be and Enchanter and Empathic if Yuuri remembered his gala history correctly, from Naniwa, on mainland Waspia.

“The association?” Mari wondered, glancing at the silver ink on the letter he had just been reading. “Did they invite you back again?” She asked carefully. Yuuri sighed and nodded, opening Morooka’s letter, turning his eyes to the purple letters.

_…in light of the upcoming review of Witchcraft’s status as an Independent arcane school, I am in the process of writing a book on the history of the craft and its prevalence amongst eastern solstice-born such as ourselves._

_While not a practitioner, I greatly admire the branch of study, and was very impressed with your performance at the Gala; with your permission, I would like to ask for an interview to be included in the Bulletin alongside the book release._

_I would also be interested in your own opinions as a full practitioner even if the interview is not possible, and hope you will be willing to help me with this endeavour…_

“Want a hand putting any of this away?” His sister asked, gesturing to the piles. “I can get it put into the store if you want to get a nap - you look exhausted, and mum will fuss if you come up for dinner later looking like a Funayūrei,” she added.

“I’m not _that_ bad am I?” Yuuri pouted. “I’ll take the offer of help, but I need to get the ingredients for the Nishigoris’ potion ready, and I wanted to do the prep work today-”

“Yuuri, Yuuko and Takeshi won’t grudge you getting some sleep, “Mari said. “They’ll tell you as much later. Once word gets out your back, mum will invite them for over dinner with Minako-sensei, I bet you ten gold pieces.”

She was right, on all accounts, and if he showed up to dinner later like this his mother would worry. And his quiet, but constant father. Mari, in her own way, was already expressing her concern. Maybe he should rest - he _was_ tired.

“I’ll organise all these and put away the ingredients from the leopards then, if you don’t mind sorting the rest? There's nothing volatile, but don’t open any of the containers just in case,” he agreed finally.

Satisfied with that his sister nodded, and Yuuri quickly sorted away all the pieces he’d claimed from the leopards. Some went into jars, some was placed in his store room, and some more went specifically into a spelled cool cabinet (he never used it for long, but Christophe did have a point about their uses). After that he turned to the letters.

A few were from some of the younger solstice born taking their first licensing exams asking for advice on spells. There weren’t many - there never would be, given how few of them there were - but it made Yuuri smile. He remembered his own letters to Chris and his mentor, constantly badgering them both about potions. He replied to those first, and ignored the letter from the Gala committee.

Morooka’s letter he replied to though; he wasn’t sure he warranted an interview, but Minako would tell him to say yes, so he would save the hassle of arguing and loosing if he agreed now. Besides, he wasn’t bad, and Yuuri was interested in the book he’d sent along with the letter.

After that, the sliver inked envelope still twinkling maddeningly at him, Yuuri began working through some other letters he hadn’t replied to before he left; the pile wasn’t big but it was mixed in with a lot of older documents. Inevitable they had been mixed up, as the last letter he pulled out was not what he expected.

There in his own handwriting was a potion recipe. It was written on the back of a lavender cloth napkin, stuffed into the envelope with only the words ‘ _Make this!_ ’ Scrawled on the front as a guide to its purpose. The ingredients themselves were smudged too, and Yuuri could tell they were not written with ink.

Grapevine essence, leopard bone, pine nut, pine oil, chopped ivy, fennel seeds… after that, they were a little smudged, but that was not what drew his eyes to the haphazard recipe. At the top, in set same odd writing medium, was a name. One he had heard recently in his madness and fever delirium.

_I'd love to help you gather potion ingredients! Will you be gathering some for your Love Potions? Or the Essence of Frivolity you were working on?_

Essence of Frivolity… Yuuri had hallucinated that. He’d been sure of it, but apparently he did come up with something of the name after all. But where had the napkin come from? He didn’t remember receiving it, or even writing the recipe down. The entire situation felt suspiciously like that of the dancing spell he’d come up with. The one before he left Hasetsu all those years ago, at the celebration of his birthday in the village.

Slightly tipsy after their first tries of sake, he’d made it so he and Yuuko didn’t fall over whirling around the bonfire, and for the people who were anxious about dancing. He couldn’t remember it to this very day, unless he was drinking.

Something - a voice that sounded suspiciously like Phichit - said it was from the Gala Festival. It also suggested that maybe this time, he hadn’t been hallucinating at all.

Yuuri ignored it, turning out of the room into his private wing, leaving the suspicious recipe on the table top to try and work out later; all of a sudden he was very tired.

* * *

_But ev'ry now and then I feel so insecure; I know that I just need you like I've never done before._

* * *

**Waspia’s Witches - The Rise and Popularity of Modern Witchcraft in Ruthenia’s Eastern Archipelago**  
by _Hisashi Morooka._

 **Chapter 01** \- _The History of Witchcraft_.

 

 

> Since the founding of the Ruthenian empire, there have been four key schools of magic; potions, combative, elemental magic, and witchcraft. It originates from the central regions of Albion, Batukhan, and Vallis Poenina, where it was practiced in settlements to ward off early spirits…

**Chapter 02** \- _Lilia Baranovskaya & the Founding Coven Trials _

 

 

> Easily one of the most well-known and influential figures in Witchcraft, _Lilia Baranovskaya_ is also one of the most prominent names modern magical politics. A famous mentor, she is the Head Witch of the Bolshoi Coven, and is a key contributor to modern magical education through its foundation.
> 
> Born during a spring equinox in the Imperial City ninety-seven years ago, she is by no means old for a solstice born, and her apprenticeship was served under _Cěsarĭ Nikolai’s_ first consort…

**Chapter 03** \- _Eastern Witchcraft & Cultural Circles of Study _

 

 

> Despite its foreign origins, the superstitious history of the Wa Archipelago has lent a strong foundation to Witchcraft, particularly amongst smaller, outlying islands and the greater Waspian area.
> 
> There are many different rituals unique to the area, and the unique local tongue and scripts also lend well to the runic scriptures used in magical formulas.
> 
> Given that runic scripts and interpretation are part of the founding principles of witchcraft - the fabled ‘ _Power of a Name_ ’ - it is unsurprising that eastern language and writing has played a significant part in establishing witchcraft as an Eastern arcane powerhouse unheard of in other regions today.
> 
> Its full might and potential was seen with _Katsuki Yuuri_ last year during the 712th GMG in Parthenope, Viteilú, who made full use of his native regional language to decimate the quarter and semi-finalists…

**Chapter 04** _\- Magical Training Fundamentals; What Makes Witchcraft so Difficult to Master?_

 

 

> The most significant aspect of witchcraft is not just the rituals and layers of spell-webs required for simple work.
> 
> Most notable, it is an art which utilises little to no wandwork, and indeed its only significance in competition is during apprenticeship examinations. Following this, witchcraft requires a broad knowledge of different subjects not commonly studied in other disciplines.
> 
> Phases of the moon play a huge role in rituals, the effect of ingredients in potions and spells, and there can be a huge difference between different varieties of the same plant when used in spellwork.
> 
> To fully utilise witchcraft, like Potioneering, requires much more dedicated study than other schools, which while not difficult in and of themselves, are simpler in execution…

**Chapter 05 -** _Famous Witches & Modern Magic _

 

 

> As mentioned in previous chapters, many active witches hail from the Wa Archipelago; while Ruthenia’s _Lilia Baranovskaya_ is perhaps the most famous, in the east _Minako Okukawa_ has the biggest renown, a former Gala Champion before she retired from the competitive circuit and opened her licences in Witchcraft and Enchantments to the general public.
> 
> Others include _Satsuki Muramoto_ (who currently works as a mentor for Mueang’s first Solstice Born, _Phichit Chulanont_ ), and _Kanako Odagaki_ (also currently Mentoring).
> 
> In recent years, the formerly predominantly female art has also been attracting male students, the most recent new solstice-born being _Kenjirou Minami,_ _Yūto Omiki, Hikaru Fujiwara_ all of whom cite the same fellow in their decision to follow ‘ _the craft_ ’.
> 
> _Yuuri Katsuki_ burst onto the magical competitive circuit one year ago following his entry into the _GMG_ , but his significance in opening the art up to new interest is unprecedented. In just a year, the popularity of this oft overlooked arcane school has soared.
> 
> The first to enter under an independent arcane school to the final since his first mentor competed, _Katsuki_ represents the level of dedication required to master witchcraft to its fullest, and also shows how local influences strengthen different schools of magic within their arcane circles.
> 
> Hailing from a tiny island often forgotten even by the Archipelago itself, his language slang - considered slightly countryish by mainland Waspia - was utilised in his spells, giving him a unique syllabary across three runic dialects, and utterly incomprehensible spellwork to his first-round opponent (a fellow Waspian); it is this unique cast which many cite as the basis for Katsuki’s heralded status as a wildcard in the Final before his unfortunate withdrawal.
> 
> His magical education in the craft lasted for over ten years, easily three times the time of study I once undertook for basic competency in sorcery, and since his first showing at the _GMG_ , Katsuki has been cited as the source of the disciplines increased popularity among new solstice born.
> 
> With more than 30% of solstice-born now choosing it as their primary arcane school, or as a new apprenticeship, including _Carévič Yuri_ (who recently began his magical education,), the popularity of Witchcraft has never been so high, rising exponentially since Katsuki’s demonstrations at the _GMG_ , and it is expected to keep rising.
> 
> Witchcraft is currently being reviewed by the _IMSA_ in consideration of the record number of solstice-born listing it as an arcane school, and may yet be awarded _GMG Qualification Status_ in the form of a new competition, many of which cite being due to Katsuki’s reinvention of this ancient, but often overlooked magical art.
> 
> The implications of this suggests that…

**Chapter 06** \- _Biographies; Today’s Covens & Competitive Wiccans _

 

 

> Lilia BARANOVSKAYA; _Bolshoi Coven, Premiere, Coven Founder & Head_ \- Pg. 37.
> 
> Hikaru FUJIWARA; _Piter Coven, Initiate_ \- Pg. 43
> 
> Guang-Hong JI; _Huating Regional Coven, Premiere_ \- Pg. 46
> 
> Yuuri KATSUKI; _Bolshoi Coven, Premiere_ \- Pg. 49.
> 
> Kenjirou MINAMI; _Meireki Coven, Initiate_ \- Pg. 54
> 
> Satsuki MURAMOTO; _Meireki Coven, Premiere_ \- Pg. 57
> 
> Kanako ODAGKI; _Meireki Coven, Coven Founder & Head_ \- Pg. 63
> 
> Minako OKUKAWA; _Bolshoi Coven, Premiere_ \- Pg. 70.
> 
> Yūto OMIKI; _Meireki Coven, Initiate_ \- Pg. 79

* * *

 

"I didn't realise there were so many covens now, when you first qualified it was just the Bolshoi and Piter ones. All these new kids must have had a hard job choosing," Yuuko mused as her eyes scanned over the book Yuuri had given to her.

In the meantime, he measured and checked everything from the length of her fingernails to the width of her calves with charms and a tape measure. Behind her, slumped in in a chair against the wall with Vicchan keeping his shoulder warm as he napped, was Takeshi, but the two friends were long practiced in ignoring his snores. He really wasn’t good at early mornings on his days off - which Yuuri could commiserate with - but unfortunately for all of them, the potion needed to be drunk at dawn.

"It's a really interesting read! I know Morooka isn't a witch but he's _really_ done his research. Well, based on what you've told me over the years he has. How come you don't want to read it?"

"Because I'm _in_ it - I’m not going to read something that talks about me in the third person," Yuuri said, taking a note of the width of her arm, and the adding the contents of a purple vial from the holder on the table and adding it to a chilled cauldron lined with mother of pearl. "But I had look and you're right; I think he asked Mistress Lilia to help him with some of the details and proof read. She had to anyway, since the Bolshoi is the regulator for witchcraft, and if she hadn't approved of the content, it wouldn't have been made." He explained.

"When does he start publishing the interviews? I want to make sure I get a good copy!" His friend beamed. "Since you won't read about your own success, I'll have to make sure he does you your due."

Yuuri rolled his eyes but the smile remained as he returned to look her in the eyes, using a quick spell on his own to make them glow, with an instruction not to blink. He was long used to his childhood friend's eager support of his career. She always been a fan of the magic scene, but after he'd started his training in earnest, so too had her determination to prove to everyone who asked how ' _much more amazing_ ' he was than Viktor Nikiforov ' _and all the rest!_ '. Yuuri could be at least be happy with the knowledge he had proved his worth to her, and her husband.

If he didn't get this potion right, he'd never be able to face them again. This was why he became an active magical, embraced his status as a solstice-born; not for competition or glory or fame, but to help his village, and the visitors that sometimes found whatever they were looking for on Hasetsu.

He knew he could do this; the mother of pearl cauldron he'd received after his potions mastery was the best suited for the task, his reference books were open just in case, he'd found all the ingredients or bought them from the Potioneer’s Committee. He'd even sent a letter to Chris and Joseph-sensei asking for a little guidance or suggestion they could make. He'd take every advantage he could get if it meant helping Yuuko have a family.

He's gone through every check, every awkward question and mortifying ingredient request with the couple, and started brewing the potions at the start of the week. Takeshi’s was bubbling gently in another matching cauldron. Despite being so small, it had cost three times as much as a normal one, but Yuuri hadn't blinked - Takeshi would be a fantastic father, and he would make sure his friend got the chance to show it.

Finishing the glowing spell, he made another note and added some of the hairs from the female leopard’s pelt. "I'll leave it in your capable hands," he said dryly. He reached for two vials, one a light green and the over a magenta-based purple. “Pick one of these,” he said plainly; Yuuko pointed to the magenta-purple and he added the entire test tube to the potion. “I think it comes out in next tomorrow’s Bulletin, but won’t Haruka keep a copy for you at the shop like he usually does?”

“That’s not the point! Sometimes she just takes the top copy from the bundle and if it’s rained on the crossing from Naniwa, then it's completely splotched and the ink is a mess! I want a good copy for my collection!" Yuuko huffed.

She watched from her seat as he added powders, dried flowers and root juices into the shimmering cauldron. Her eyes followed his every move, fascinated and maybe a little wistful as they crumbled the dried plants between his fingertips and the potion sparkled as the crushings hit the potion surface. There was a slight pull to her bottom lip, indicating a question she was still thinking about it too afraid to ask. Yuuri waited.

“I saw the envelope Yuuri, the silver one. Are you going to reply?” She asked finally, tone gentle and simply curious like Phichit’s had been, but for different reasons.

“No,” Yuuri said, his eyes straying to his familiar. “I know it was an accident but Vicchan… he lost _three tails_ Yuuko. Not from a competitor or a spell gone wrong, or from using too much magic, but a freak accident because the GMG didn’t-” Yuuri bit his tongue, not wanting to disturb Nishigori or Vicchan. “I’m can’t let him get hurt again.”

“Are you sure you’re saying that for his sake?” Yuuko asked, her eyes — brown and warm as always — changing their sights for his. “I know you aren’t as into the competition, but when we came to see you for preliminaries, Yuuri, you looked like you were having so much _fun_ . You _love_ magic, you love _casting_ it, _working_ with it, showing what it can _do_. You’re only barely seventeen Yuuri - now that you’ve learned how to avoid blue floorboards, you should be allowed to enjoy it for the sake of it. Just because you want to help here doesn’t mean you can’t.”

Yuuri didn’t say anything. But he did acknowledge that Yuuko was right. Part of him wished he could have been born without magic and just had fun, gone to normal school like Yuuko and Takeshi, started learning to take over the Onsen with Mari.

Yet if he hadn’t been born on the solstice, he wouldn’t be able to help Yuuko and Takeshi now, and they meant so much more to him for all the support they’d given. Could he say he’d have had that without it? Knowing them as he did, probably, but he’d rather

“I was,” he admitted finally, a little wistfully. “If I’d kept in shape maybe, but I’m not in any sort of condition for the next qualifiers, and I don’t want that so-called ‘ _Invite_ ’ either. I didn’t earn it this time; the IMSA just don’t want to lose face over their own mess,” he said bluntly, taking the contents of a bottle and pouring the thick red syrup into Yuuko’s potion.

Across the table, a familiar fluffy head was watching him, eyes flicking between Yuuri and the stand of vials still full of liquids and infusions. “Vicchan,” Yuuri warned. “No.” The pup barked, but jumped down from the table before trying to help out. Normally it would be fine, but not for a potion this strong. Not until Vicchan got his strength back.

“I suppose there is that,” Yuuko mused. “But promise me, if you get the chance to, think about it? You’ve already achieved what you wanted for Hasetsu Yuuri - this place is testament to that, and It will always be here. Don’t let that stop you from doing something you enjoy because you’re scared or anxious. That’s not the Yuuri I know.”

“Yes, he is,” Yuuri snorted. “How many times did you have to push me off the pier until I realised I was allowed swim with everyone from the school?”

“Too many,” Yuuko sighed. “But you know what I mean Yuuri. You were so determined to prove everyone wrong about Witchcraft, prove you were just as good as Viktor, and now… you just seem so unsure, and if there’s a chance that you want to go back out there and make it to the GMG like you should have, then I want you to think about it.”

Yuuri surpassed a sigh, mashing some peppercorns and local seeds in pestle and mortar. “Now you sound like Phichit! He wanted to know if I was competing again too,” he said, avoiding Yuuko’s gaze. She always had a way of asking the questions he didn’t want to answer (he’d always thanked her for it in the long run), and this one was no different.

“Is it the fact that you pulled out that bothers you? Or just what happened to Vicchan?” Yuuko asked. “I know it’s not normal, but you could compete without him. It’s been done before.”

“I can’t do that Yuuko,” he said shaking his head at the very thought and adding the grounds to the cauldron. “Vicchan’s my _familiar_ ; he’s not just a pet or companion, he’s part of my magic, and I’m just as big a part of his! I couldn’t even… no. I couldn’t do that.”

“So, it is just Vicchan?” She asked again; Yuuri thought about it. He thought deep and hard as he stirred the potion, watching the shimmering liquid, like a liquefied rainbow and molten silver. _Two turns counter clockwise next_ , he thought to himself. Was it just Vicchan?

“Does it matter?” He asked. “I haven’t kept up my training Yuuko, and I’d need a mentor to get ready for it. I could ask Minako, but…” there was a reason he’d gone to Celestino-sensei all those years ago. Minako’s magic was like Yuuri’s. It wasn’t the fizz and bang people usually associate with the GMG.

“You don’t need to train for the Research Exhibition, or the Independent Arcana Fair,” Yuuko pointed out. “Wasn’t that Celestino-sensei’s original plan for you before you got the invite? You could swipe a win at the Fair no problem, and even a top ten at the Exhibition would be enough to qualify — you wrote to me about it!”

Yuuri blinked. He had completely forgotten about it, but that had been his original goal; it hadn’t been for the last gala, but for this one currently. They hadn’t thought he would be ready before he got the invite. Then it came, and they’d been too busy celebrating to even consider waiting for it to pass and aim for passing the next qualifying competitions.

Could he do it? He didn’t think so. He’d let his competitive training slide. He was in no shape for combative magic at all, and his elemental magic was so rusty he didn’t even know where to start with it. How he’d managed to conjure kitsune-bi, even with Vicchan’s help, he would never know. His sorcery wasn’t even worth thinking about. Celestino-sensei had always told him it was tied to his mental state. Yuuri didn’t have to be versed in sorcery to know that his mental state was not currently suited for it.

Yes, he had strong bases in potions, and witchcraft, but he wasn’t the only one who would be entering. Chris and Joseph competed in every Exhibition for starters! And what about Vicchan? Before it had been different, he’s had four tails when the gala arrived. With one, he’d be vulnerable to the high-level spells!

How could he even hope to compete without his friend?

Adding a final clockwise stir, Yuuri cast a gentle blow of magic at the grate beneath it, fading the flames with barely a whisper.

“Rather than worry about my competitive career, how about you wake up your husband?” He smiled, desperate for a change of subject, getting to his feet and going to Takeshi’s potion.

Immediately, Yuuko’s instant but kind words froze, and she rushed to her husband ( _’Takeshi! Takeshi, wake up! I swear, if you sleep through this you’ll sleep in the guest room for a month!’_ ). It took a few moments to settle both potions, but soon the steaming bowl-sized cauldrons were sitting in front of the couple on the table top.

“So… we just drink them now?” Takeshi yawned, his hand wrapping almost fearfully around his wife’s shoulders, lifting the shimmering potion Yuuri had just finished in one hand and peering at it curiously. “Why each other’s?” He asked.

“The potion works by making you receptive to the other, that’s why I needed the…” Yuuri coughed awkwardly. “…essences you gave me at the start of the week. The magic involved works sort of like a magnet?” He tried to explain. “Go on, its dawn now. Go on! If you wait till the sun has risen it won’t work!” He ushered.

Yuuko didn’t hesitate, raising the small, hand-sized cauldron in her own hand and beginning to swallow. Takeshi quickly followed, and neither stopped until both cauldrons were drained. Once they’d scooped every last drop of liquid out, Yuuri took the cauldrons back, and gave them both a fixed ‘pay attention’ gaze.

“Once you get home, don’t rush into everything; the potion is designed to work with your bodies and enhance at the best time for you both. This will be the hard part, because it might be a month, it might be a week, it might be two hours,” he said. “Honestly, you probably won’t even notice it if you just let things happen naturally. Ok?”

Yuuko nodded, jumping out of Takeshi’s arms and into his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much Yuuri!” She said in earnest.

“Don’t thank me yet, I never said it was fool proof,” he said.

“I believe in you - if you made this then it will work. I know it! You’re one of the best solstice-born I’ve ever seen Yuuri! You don’t see it, but know it! I have ever. Since we went with you to Piter!” Yuuko insisted.

“If you say so,” he sighed; there was no arguing with her.

Yuuko glared at him, then hugged him again, pressing her lips to his cheek in a manner only family could muster. “Remember, you’re coming over for dinner tomorrow with everyone!” She reminded firmly, before yawning and heading for the door, clearly thinking of returning to bed; Yuuri wished he could entertain the notion, but he wouldn’t get back to sleep now.

Takeshi watched her go, then he waited to get his attention. “What?” Yuuri asked after the staring felt like it was dragging. Takeshi huffed, then ruffled his hair.

“Don’t think about the GMG too much okay? Yuuko’s pushy because she wants you to be happy, but I think she’s such a fan that she forgets _you’re_ the one who understands all the magic stuff sometimes,” he said. “She means well though.”

“You were awake for that, then?” Yuuri asked awkwardly, taking the two cauldrons to the sink for washing.

“As if I could sleep through Yuuko when she’s on a mission to bully her best friend into having fun,” Takeshi chuckled. “I mean, I kind of see her point about having fun - We hardly ever saw you after Minako-sensei came to train you, and then you went off to the other side of the world - but that’s up to you to decide not her.”

Yuuri laughed. “I know Takeshi,” he assured him.

“Good. If you decide something, tell us and we’ll help - with _anything_. We have to get a head start on paying you back for this somehow.”

Yuuri groaned. “I told you, I don’t want anything!” He said; this conversation had been ongoing for since he’d first offered to help the couple, and he didn’t know how to stress his point any further. This had been a voluntary exercise! “It’s my magic! I can do what I like with it for my best friends, can’t I?”

“And your ours,” Takeshi assured him. “But I looked up fertility potions with a guy in Meireki Yuuri. Even the _standard_ one’s cost more than I make in a month, and you went on an expedition for us. We’d _never_ be able to afford this,” he said, tone softening. “Ok, you won’t take any money, but promise me, if something comes up, if you need help, or you want something and we can help you, you’ll tell us?”

Yuuri tried to avoid the insistent gaze, but he had to cave eventually. It didn’t help that Takeshi was taller than him. “Alright, I promise,” he relented. Takeshi beamed, his usual scrunched grin back, and he too gave him a rare hug.

“Are you going to the Carévič Festival?” Takeshi asked, pausing at the door

“I’m helping the Tachibanas with the firework display, in case it rains,” Yuuri nodded - the festival was the national birthday celebration of the heir presumptive to the imperial throne, due in four weeks’ time. Carévič Yuri would be turning ten years old this year, if he remembered correctly.

“I’ll probably see you then, and dinner I guess. See you later Yuuri, and thank you.”

Once he had disappeared, Yuuri set about the rest of his tidying up before the rest of his day started. He only had a few things to do for some regular clients, and as the sun broke through the glass windows in front of his cauldrons, as the rays shone through the service window onto the countertop, he could help but think about Yuuko and Takeshi’s words.

He wasn’t so busy here in Hasetsu, and he had admit, sometimes he did wish for something to break the calm of the day. Something new and exciting. What though? He began to consider the concerns his friends had given him, and couldn’t help wondering if they had a point.

As it was Yuuri couldn’t remember a time when magic hadn’t done something that arranged his life. Whether it was being different when he started school for those few brief years, searching for _Susuwatari_ , or staining the floorboards accidentally in the game of mud pancakes he’d been having on the engawa.

Yuuri wasn’t sure he even knew _how_ to do something that wasn’t at least partly involved in magic. It was all he’d learned. He didn’t know how to run the port like Yuuko, or carve furniture like Nishigori. He couldn’t run the in the way he might have, or farm, or do anything else practical like the rest of the villagers. He liked his magic because it gave him a way to help in ways no-one else could.

But could he say he wasn’t maybe a little… bored? Yuuri didn’t want to lie, so he held his lips in check, but he couldn’t say he really wanted to compete either. There was too much that made him nervous, and as he had told Yuuko he wasn’t prepared.

He had no idea what to do with himself, and he hadn’t even realised it. Flopping onto the table, he glanced at the pile of letters on his desk. He’d already sent the decline to the IMSA. If he did try to qualify, he didn’t want their delayed, half-assed apology to be how he did it. He wanted to do it on his own merit, by his own due.

The strange potion recipe was easy to spot on the napkin, and it struck him as something he could work on between eye potions and fish bait charms. Getting to his feet he pulled it out of the pile again, taking another with it.

Chris’s letter - he hadn’t even opened it yet. Sitting back down with the recipe, he cracked open the letter, quickly scanning his eyes over the contents. After a few moments, he went back to his desk for his ink and fountain pen.

' _Problems shared are problems solved_ ’, his father said. Maybe Chris could help him with his.

* * *

Yuuri!

I hope this letter finds you well, for I’m in need of advice on my great matter; I’ve finally decided to take the plunge and start learning witchcraft, and was wondering if you had any advice vis a vis self-study or an apprenticeship.

I know you did your potions training through self-study (an inhuman feat, I don’t know how, I would have given up after a month without Joseph), and was hoping you could recommend me one or the other?

I have spoken about this with several people, and had mixed responses. Joseph says I need a mentor, end of story. Then there’s Viktor, who’s more of the ‘ _let’s try it and hope for the best!_ ’ sort of man, but then again, he isn’t normal. That and he doesn’t have your common sense (I blame Yakov), and his judgment has been doubly impaired by romantic liaisons.

I’ve tracked down a man from Parthenope who lives nearby who has trained in Witchcraft who’s already offered to take me on as an apprentice (unless I mistook his Viteilútian, and he was flirting instead - I’d be happy with either, really), so I could still work with Joseph, but with the Gala Qualifiers coming up, and invites not an option this year, I’ll have to think about the best time to start. Maybe you’ve heard of him - Mathieu Moretti?

Hopefully you can shed some light on this my friend!

I heard from Phichit that you were heading to north Mueang for an ingredient expedition a few weeks ago; did it go well? Is it regarding the fertility potion we’ve been talking about? Yuuri, please, send me details. I love fertility potions, and the adjustments to the recipe you told me about were intriguing! You have such flair!

Your friend as always,

Christophe,

x

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chris,

I’ll be blunt with you, with the Qualifiers starting next month, now is not the time to be starting a Witchcraft apprenticeship. You’ll be safer waiting until qualifiers are over.

In regard to the self-study/mentoring dilemma, Joseph-sensei is correct, speak to Mr. Moretti if you really want to pursue this. I met him at the last coven gathering, and he’s very talented. Please tell him I really liked his book about Poeninan Runic Scripts! It was fascinating! I read it before the GMG last year and I tried out a few of his formulas in Waspian.

I never said potions weren’t hard to learn self-study, I just had no other option - Minako-sensei’s stink (no other word for them, and she freely admits it).

The expedition was an adventure - if you’re still going to the potions committee event after the Qualifiers remind me to tell you then (some things just don’t translate into a letter).

And yes, it was for the fertility potion - thank you for your notes! They were extremely helpful. I’ve included a copy of the recipe I used - now it’s just a case of waiting.

Which leads me to my own request for advice; I’m at a bit of a loss right now.

I don’t have to remind you what happened at the GMG last year, and since then I’ve been avoiding it, but Yuuko and Phichit both asked some questions I really should have considered sooner about qualifying.

Vicchan is still recovering, and I’m terrified of competing in case my selfishness and stupidity get him hurt again. I’m also completely without a mentor, and out of practice with everything but witchcraft and potions.

In spite of all that, part of me wants to try again. I just don’t know if I should. If you have any advice to send my way, I’d really appreciate it.

Your friend,

Yuuri.

* * *

_Help me if you can, I'm feeling down, and I do appreciate you being 'round._

* * *

The preparations for the festival were hectic; while far away from the imperial city as it was possible to be, Hasetsu was fond of Cěsarĭ Nikolai and his grandson, the young Carévič.

A series of very public family problems within the imperial family (which had been exposed by a former palace servant) had cemented public love for them in Yuuri’s small village, and so when the birthday celebrations came, they’re just as energetic as they had been for the cherry blossom festival, or the one held in honour of the local spirits (or Yuuri’s birthday, as Yuuko might add if she knew his thoughts).

Aside from the planned rework display, there would be feats, games and a bonfire, all the usual trimmings that came with local celebrations. They began the planning two weeks in advance, a week after Yuuri had sent his plea for advice to Christophe.

He had yet to receive a reply, but wasn’t worried. Chris had a lot of other things to do besides indulging his worried with a reply, and Yuuri wasn’t in a rush. He was enjoying all the extra work that came with helping the village prepare for the celebration. It was always one of the bigger ones and there was a lot to do.

Minako was working on the fireworks themselves, but is was down to Yuuri to cast the protective charms over the houses and grounds they would be fired from. Every house on the island would be letting off a large rocket which would be released as part of a pattern, the highlight of all major festivals. Yuuri was often on his broomstick, jetting off from one end of the island to the other.

This was normally a job which took several days or a week to complete, but the island was small enough that Yuuri could get it done in an afternoon, casting protective charms, and finalising the magical timers on the fireworks; for some reason, he’d been given the honour of lighting them, and using magic would make for grater possibilities with the display (or so the firework makers had gleefully told him).

Yuuko still had no news, but the chance to spend some time together wasn’t one to be missed. With the pier also doing its part in the evening entertainment (there was a bandstand being set up on the sea view), Yuuri found himself visiting her at work often.

The days were long enough he rarely had the time to let his thoughts wander to Galas and Sorcery even when he got home; he was simply too tired for anything but a snack from the kitchen (unless he went to his parents for dinner), a cup of tea, and his bed.

The work was rewarding though, so Yuuri had no complaints; though that didn’t stop his from letting out a sigh of relief as he closed the gate to his home. It was his third day on the eastern side of the island setting some rocket holders up on the stacks and cliffs with Takeshi, and it had nearly ended with his frying being blown off the broomstick into the sea.

Vicchan - who had taken one look at Nishigori trying to clamber onto the broomstick and promptly decided to spend the day at home napping instead - barked enthusiastically as Yuuri made his way past the service window to the back of the building where his private entrance was.

As he was walking along the path through his vegetable and herb patches, familiar clambering up his front in search of his head yet again, he felt something. Something very familiar, despite having sensed only twice in his life.

Vicchan barked excitedly, circling on Yuuri’s head as he made his way into the house. Looking around his living space, he didn’t see anything unusual, but a check of the potion room revealed a cloak that was not his hung carefully over the back of a chair, the blue velvet pristine and dipping with protection and warming charms.

“Vicchan, do we have a visitor?” Yuuri asked, raising his eyes up and taking off his hat to look at his familiar. Vicchan barked again, his eyes looking back to Yuuri’s private rooms.

Following the gaze Yuuri found nothing, and when he investigated his bedroom and the toilet, the was no-one there either, but there was definitely a stranger’s cloak in his workroom!

Had it not been for Vicchan’s calm, Yuuri might have been tempted to get his wand out; for all he struggled with it, sometime holding one could be intimidation, and he did share a room with a Bokor for four years, and he had not come out of that experience without learning a few good curses.

Creeping out of the door between his kamado and the bathroom wall, he looked around in search of something in the rest of the garden; behind him the host spring steam warmed the back of his neck as he looked out to the north-west corner. Nothing, just Vicchan’s shrine, but the sensation was stronger.

If he didn’t know any better he’d almost say it felt like… pausing and concentrating on the steam, Yuuri could sense it, the pink lace of magic and its bright opalescent shine with the clouds of heated water that rose from the eastern side of the house.

Slowly turning, Yuuri walked down the steps from the small platform to the onsen, hesitantly, disbelievingly. It couldn’t be. If so, then that meant that —

“Hello? Is someone there?” He called out, trying to keep his voice from cracking in distress (or was it confusion?)

The splash of a body rising out of the water drew his head to the midst of the pool. With the same grace that Vicchan had appeared from the first in his familiar dread, Viktor seemed to form before his eyes from the steam and liquid element he favoured.

Blue eyes shone brightly, excited, and once again your found himself helpless before the (very naked) man’s wide, genuine smile.

“ _Yuuri!_ ” He called out jubilantly. “I heard you were in need of a mentor for the Qualifiers from Chris, and came to offer my assistance!”

He was really here, and no matter how he tried, Yuuri simply reason or convince himself otherwise. Yuuri tried, he tried hard, but this time there were no dodgy potions or fevers; he was completely clearheaded, and his mind slipped away from him as Viktor’s magic leaked into the steam.

Either Yuuri had missed something, or he was hallucinating again; he couldn’t think of any other reason for Viktor to be in his onsen, saying his name like he’d been dunked in a love potion.

* * *

_Help me get my feet back on the ground; won't you please, please help me?_

* * *

Ha. So. Anther chapter out. Its 3am. Apologies again for so many words. Once again not doing college work. You know how when you wake up after monstrous bugs and you feel like you dreamt up half of anything you said or did for 2-3 days? Yuuri is the same.

I’m apologising in advance for Vitya’s bad flirting. Poor boy had no clue what he's doing, really. ~~Neither do I~~.This chapter's musical inspiration is the frighteningly accurate '[Help!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWP6Qki8mWc)' by _The Beatles._  
  
Also, I'm blown away by all the love this has been getting! Thank you so much for all the love and kinds words! Especially to [thetwolattes](http://thetwolattes.tumblr.com) who drew this [adorable ](http://thetwolattes.tumblr.com/post/160546596403/ever-since-i-readncj700s-bottle-me-your-smile-i)[fan art of Vicchan hiding beneath Yuuri's hat!](http://thetwolattes.tumblr.com/post/160546596403/ever-since-i-readncj700s-bottle-me-your-smile-i) Its so cute and gorgeous and wonderful!


	3. Handle with Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Viktor Nikiforov meets Yakov Feltsman, his life takes an unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really know how to trigger-warn this, but I’m making a blanket statement that some things in this chapter could be upsetting. I’m not sure if it warrants it or not, but better to be safe than sorry. There might be a slight reference to symptoms associated with PTSD, but I tried my very best to keep it mild and avoid anything that might be too strong. I can’t say when or where to look for it, but if anyone reading decides they needs a TL; DR, just PM me here or on my Tumblr!

_Been beat up and battered 'round, been sent up, and I've been  
shot down; You're the best thing that I've ever found._

* * *

The base rule of hindsight is twenty-twenty, whatever place in the world you are born from, or even whichever world you exist in. It never changes its base fact; It is very easy to look back on a particular moment and think that actions and words should have been different, or how life might have changed with a left turn instead of a right.

To go back in time and change things is another matter entirely, one beyond the realm of possibility for even the world’s greatest solstice-born.

Viktor Nikiforov (who was, incidentally, the world’s greatest solstice-born), thankfully only had two thoughts he particularly wondered about with hindsight. The first was one he had been interviewed about several times.

‘ _Do you ever wounded how different your life would have been if you hadn't tried to steal from that merchant in front of your current mentor?_ ’

The answer was often _'I don't really know_ ' or a falsetto laugh with the words ' _I shudder to think about it!_ ' But Viktor knew the answer, and it wasn't even hard to imagine. He certainly wouldn't be the national name he was today.

He didn’t remember much of his childhood, but the early years had been on the outskirts of Piter. He remembered his mother’s warm smiles mostly, his father’s laughter. Their croft had been on the banks of the River Ny, partially concerned with goats on the arable land for their wooden coats and milk, but the majority of the income that kept their home alive was from the river.

They even had a small dock on the edge of their land, built by Viktor’s something-great-grandfather, when his family had first bought the land, and it had been meticulously well kept by the spirit his mother called ‘ _Makkachin_ ’ ever since it had first been built. Viktor followed his father and grandfather into the boats to help catch the daily haul as soon as he was smart enough to sneak away from his grandmother’s watchful eye, and old enough to know he’d be scolded for it later.

In the winter on his birthday, no matter what, the river always froze. His mother would make little pancakes with bilberry jam for breakfast, and he’d be allowed a little of his grandfather’s summer brewed elderflower wine in the evenings. In between, he’d go out and skate on the river.

His mother hated it - she was terrified he’d fall and hurt himself, his head, his back but he never did. He couldn’t do anything special like some people could (he couldn’t practice when his only rink appeared in the wintertime) but there was just something special about skating over the frozen water on his birthday.

On his seventh birthday, the winter had been extremely mild, and the night before his birthday, the river still hadn’t frozen. The next morning, though a chill had swept into the air his parents had been adamant it was too thin. Yet when Viktor went down to check, the whole river was frozen to a foot deep from bank to bank!

Viktor disregarded his parents stunned, shared confusion and apprehension in his excitement, dragging his grandparents out onto the ice to skate. It was the last time he would skate with his family on that river, for a few days later, they left the flowing scene. Even with hindsight fourteen years later, Viktor couldn’t help thinking the move to the capital was the worst decision his parents ever made.

One way or another, they’d had bad timing, and this was Viktor’s second and most frustrating instance of hindsight. Maybe if he’d said something about not wanting to leave, about wanting to stay where he could see his grandparents every day, perhaps thrown a childish tantrum, or cried over leaving his few friends from the other crofts, maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe they would have survived, if they had stayed in Piter.

After moving to Dominicus, the change was vast; instead of a croft, they had owned a small greengrocer’s down a cramped side street; Viktor helped out between his hours at the small school by running errands and making deliveries on the new streets of the capital. Young as he was, he never noticed how easy he found things, how his luck never seemed to run out. His magic had been subtle and invisible back then, because he’d had no need of it.

Then the day of the 708th Grand Magic Gala had arrived in Dominicus, the doors to the Imperial City opened for the duration of the celebration. It had been a few days after Viktor turned 8 years old. His mother was a big fan of Morooka Hiashi and Nathalie Leroy, and since the entry was free to city residents, they booked a hotel room on the other side of the city, then walked for a couple of hours to the battle arena down by the sea. It was supposed to be a treat after the hard year. They had to stand in front of the main seats in the pit, but the discomfort of standing was negated by the excitement of the crowd and close views of the magical feats just beyond the barrier.

At the time, there had been a war going on; that had been the reason they left Piter, a desperate-but-anticipated evacuation from the Alyaunte border. The neighbouring kingdom had spawned the air frigates that attacked the cities close to Piter, and his parents had been background preparing, but the evacuation was still sudden. His grandparents had relocated elsewhere, to stay with a friend in Manchuria. Viktor had cried when he found out, but Dominicus was too busy and crowded for them. They were all safe though, and it was his only source of comfort.

There had been frequent attacks from air frigates across eastern Ruthenia (ever since the two countries had a dispute over the island territory of Albion), but Dominicus was much further northwest. There were so many leagues between the border and the capital that his parents had logically assumed they would be safe there.

They had been wrong; Alyaunte had decided to be bold, and the attack on the arena that night had been aimed right at the heart of Ruthenia.

It had been one that Cěsarĭ Nikolai responded to with a fury his citizens had never seen from the old Cěsar. The armies had been sent to Alyaunte with the volunteer solstice-born who had lost friends and for some, even family. Nikolai’s son, the Carévič, was one of them, garnering horrendous wounds in his attempts to protect the fleeing citizens. He would live — the Witches, Bokors, and Potioneers had saved his life — but for how long it would be, no-one knew.

Viktor's parents were among the thousands of casualties, but he didn't remember the impact itself of the engorged curse, only a bright, burning purple light that had hailed down like an unforgiving star to the centre of the ongoing magic show. It was out of the blue and instantaneous — no-one could have stopped it. He remembered the feeling of an energy, something alive as if from the earth itself bursting out around him as a single thought — ‘ _I’m scared!_ ’

When he woke up he was curled up in a clean circle, exactly where he had been standing. Beyond that circle he remembered smoke, dust, rubble and debris. Viktor Nikiforov wandered out of the destroyed arena, unable to figure out how he had avoided being squashed in the disaster. Later, he would realise his magic had protected him, formed a shield that vaporised any rubble that came his way to dust, but that would not be for a long time.

As a young boy of barely-turned eight years old, he did what any child would do in his situation; he cried and searched for his parents, but he'd always been smart, and eventually the truth seemed to settle. They were gone.

With no other ideas of what to do, he’d tried to find his way back home, but his luck seemed to be exhausted. The streets of Dominicus were not the familiar waterways of Piter he’d helped paddle their small boat along so often on market day with his father. They were vast, winding, and unending. He’d never been far from home in Dominicus, and it was a gigantic city. Just for the gala, he and his parents had spent over half a day travelling on the river ferries to their inn, then another two hours just walking to the arena for the gala.

Magical he might have been, but he was an exhausted child, who didn’t even know he was magical in the first place. So, instead of the new house, he found hiding spaces and unattended cellars.

It took him several months to realise that he was a solstice-born; he noticed that when he needed to stay dry from the summer rains, it would be as though a shield hovered around him, almost repelling the rain. How when he needed to be quiet whilst sneaking up on the stalls in the market, even his loudest footsteps would be muffled. Or if he had slipped up and the city watch had been called, and he needed to stay hidden, even in the most crowded of streets it was as though he was as transparent and colourless as the air.

When he first realised what he was, he had considered going looking for someone who could help him. That was what happened to most solstice born, wasn’t it? They trained with a mentor to hone their magic into something useable. Became famous, had entire days celebrated in their hometowns simply because they had magic, competed in the gala and other magic competitions, then went out into the world to help people. Like Minako Okukawa had done after the catastrophe at Dominicus - she made her spells available for people who needed them across the city.

There was only one problem; Viktor didn’t have a clue of where to look for any solstice-born; he didn’t even know where his home was in Dominicus. How could he possibly know where the government buildings were? He was utterly lost in the vast city. He knew Piter like the back of his hand even now (though the memories were admittedly fading), and knew exactly where the IMSA buildings were. He could have found help. As for other solstice-born, he didn’t even know any of their names like his mother used to. He’d never been interested, because there had been other things to do on their croft.

And so, Viktor’s magic continued to pass by amongst the mobs and heaving crowds of Dominicus unnoticed. If he couldn’t get any training, he’d just have to figure it out himself. His goal was still to try and find the small home he and his parents had owned for but a few days. He knew his father had kept an address for his grandparents at their new home in Manchuria. If he could find it, he could possibly contact them.

They were the only family he had now. He had to try. He wished his parents were there every night, finding dry spaces and eventually managing to learn how to live amongst the streets, and especially on the colder, child, wet nights, he cried. He missed his mother’s warm hugs, the tight, reassuring grip of his father’s hand on his own amongst the sea of people in this horrible, strange city.

He missed them all the time actually, but Viktor persevered. Once he had realised magic - _his magic!_ \- was helping him, he tried to use it more. By a process of trial and error, he managed to work out in a few weeks that if he focused on a pile of apples, imagining them being pulled towards his hand, then they would appear there.

He even figured out that if he puffed his cheeks and willed it had enough, he could heat the water he collected in a discarded basing overnight. Usually he braced it cold, but once he learned he could warm water, he tried it in a river. It worked; it made him very tired just heading the immediate water surrounding him, so he couldn’t go too far from the banks, but he could wash in water that wasn’t cold.

He spent a whole day, after he had figured that out, washing his hair; all the boys back home had worn their hair long, and his grandmother (the head of his small family) had shown him how to look after it. Here in Dominicus he’d once been assumed a girl, but he didn’t care - he wanted a long, thick ponytail like his father and grandfather, and so he spent a whole day, washing and slowly teasing the worst of the tangles out of his hair with his fingers.

After that, he became much more adept with his magic at a much faster rate. He learned how to use it to wash his clothes, how to make them repel the rain to a limited extent, and how to keep himself warm.

He wished he knew how to make himself some new clothes. Though he had finally managed to clean the ones he’d worn to the gala, they were getting small and had become very threadbare. His mother’s delicate stitching around the cuffs had frayed and its colour had lost its brightness. He knew he couldn’t wear them forever.

Eventually he was forced to steal some more; he’d found some familiar Ruthenian tunics in a market place, where he recognised a few of the Piter clothing styles. It had been another test of his magic, turning the outer garments, leather boots, and small-clothes invisible to everyone else and sneaking up to get them.

Viktor planned to practice, to learn more to keep himself going until he could find a way back to the small backstreet house, then find a way to get to Manchuria. He might even be able to steal money by the then. He didn’t _want_ to steal money if he could avoid it, but he couldn’t think of a better option.

He thought maybe it would take a few more months. After four years passed, Viktor still couldn’t find that small bakery, safely locked up in a backstreet of the capital. He’d given up on looking for it.

Time had changed things, and even with magic, it wasn’t easy; he had a few friends, but didn’t trust any of them, especially not with the secret that he was a solstice born. He had managed to make himself a small shed on the waterfront, but even stealing money was proving challenging.

Once he’d managed to work out how much money he needed to book a flight on an air frigate to Manchuria, he’d realised his goal to re-join his grandparents wasn’t going to happen overnight. His conscience was also a problem; the first time he’d tried to steal someone’s wallet using magic, he felt horrible, and only hours after taking it had handed it in to the city watch instead. He couldn’t use his powers like that. It didn’t feel right, and new neither his parents or grandparents would have approved, even in this desperate situation.

Food was one thing, but money was another, and there were other events to worry about as the years passed, including their neighbours. The son of Cěsarĭ Nikolai, Carévič Dmitry had, after an agonising five years with his injuries from the Gala, passed away.

His death might have achieved everything Alyaunte had hoped for, and thrown the future of Ruthenia’s leadership into chaos, a Dynastical Succession the empire simply wasn’t ready for. Cěsarĭ Nikolai was old, one of the oldest solstice-born in existence, not too old to lead yet, but certainly well past the age of having any more children; many people feared that with the death of the Carévič, Cěsarĭ Nikolai would be the last of the Plisetsky Dynasty.

After seven thousand years under their guidance and leadership with little to no complaints, the very idea of introducing a new dynasty to the imperial throne had been all the people in the market place talked about for weeks, in hushed, frantic, and anxious tones. Nobody even knew who would be the next heir — there were so few families that produced genetically magical children now. Even the Plisetsky line couldn’t restrict its marriages to those families at risk of inbreeding anymore. Their entire government had been in a hanging balance, and though young, Viktor more or less understood the adult’s nervousness.

Yet a miracle intervened during those years. The Carévna, Tatiana, after several years of struggles with her husband in conceiving, had sought the help of Joseph Karpíšek. In the year 7759 of the Plisetsky Dynasty, the tiny new Carévič, Yuri, the future 77th leader of the Ruthenian empire, was born. His father lived just long enough to hold him, and died minutes after his son had been placed in his arms.

He was born in March, just a few months after Viktor’s eleventh birthday; it marked his fourth year in the bowels of Dominicus. He had learned how to manage the majority of his magic now, though some of it still proved too much for him.

He’d been trying to teleport things, and had been having some success, but the first time he tried it on some oranges in the marked, they had exploded, coating him and the stunned merchant in pulp and sticky juice. There had been no obvious way for him to prove that Viktor was responsible, but the boy had quickly made his departure from the scene.

That had been a year ago, just before the pampered little Carévič was born. It was currently January 7th 7760-PD; Viktor’s twelfth birthday had passed, it was early January, and that morning, Viktor was on a mission

Unable to help himself, he had stolen some newspapers two years previous to find out who was won the 709th GMG at Qaz, in Batukhan, and heard the birth announcements of a solstice born boy in Huating, Manchuria.

The news had reminded Viktor of his grandparents. They lived in a place not far from Huating. Had Viktor managed to steal all the money he needed for the air frigate, that would have been his landing destination, before searching for them on foot.

Thoughts of Manchuria and his grandparents as he burrowed under his covers, threadbare but spelled to keep him warm in the harsh Ruthenian winters, made him feel colder than ever before. He missed them. Were they even still alive? They weren’t that old, but it was entirely possible they had passed on in the past five years.

His original goal, eventually, came back to him. He couldn’t remember the name of the town where they were they had moved to, but he knew it was close to Huating, maybe even one of the suburbs of the city itself. There couldn’t be that many people from his old tribe, and he knew his grandparents would make sure everyone knew their heritage. They were proud of it. He knew he would find them.

So, he practiced his magic ever since, focusing specifically on teleporting things; he started small, on things like bobbins and sewing needles. Then he moved up to the salt and pepper pots, then apples and oranges (he practiced those ones outside his shack after the first time ended with him covered in stick juice from the exploded fruit). Finally, he felt confident enough to try it out in public again, and this time he squashed down his conscience in regards to money.

The markets in his area of Dominicus were large and busy like the city itself, full of hustling people. Merchants screamed their wares and deals, and punters haggled and pushed past each other in search of the best purchases. Every few stalls there were hot pirozkhi, and Viktor nonchalantly swiped a few as his eyes searched, summoning them to his hand with barely a blink.

Finally, they landed on a carpet vendor. For most people, they were simply carpets (though in the hands of a registered magical, they could also be used for transport), and an old man in a cloak and Ruthenian tunic (like Viktor’s) stood talking to the vendor, a woman beside him

It was some distance from the main stall though, the cashbox left unguarded as the elderly man and a woman with a thin, almost pinched face beside him asked the vendor questions about his goods. Viktor eyed the box, and after making sure the man, vendor, and the woman (she wore an ethereal-looking hat and a draping floaty himation were occupied. Deciding it was safe, Viktor focused his eyes on the cash box, and concentrated.

He imagined his power surrounding it, then unfurling between his hands, and pushed as much energy into it as he could, but it was difficult. Sweat crippled down his forehead as he concentrated, and he poured every ounce of that special spark he now felt coursing along mystical channels beside his veins into the ‘ _spell_ ’.

Finally, the was a slight popping noise, and a weight fell into his hands. Opening his eyes, Viktor beamed when he realised the cashbox was in his hands, heavy and overflowing. He might be able to buy a ticket today with everything that must be inside this box! Even when his parents had been alive, he’d never seen so much money!

“Hey! You! Pityerian brat!” A voice barked sharply, freezing Viktor in his awe, and jolting him back from his musings; the customer was staring at him with disbelieving, wide eyes. Beside him, the woman had a hand raised, as if to point, and her hand on the man’s arm; she had _seen_ him!

Beside them, the carpet merchant was slack jawed. “You little rat! Get your hands off my money thief!” He screamed, stomping towards him; for a boy of just-turned-twelve, it seemed rather an unfair advantage. The man was tall and bulky, like a bull oxen, whereas Viktor was small, lithe, malnourished and sprightly with little muscle.

Or it seemed that way until Viktor turned himself and the cashbox in his hands completely invisible, and began to slip away through the startled crowd that had seen the commotion.

“He… He just…He disappeared!” the merchant choked.

“ _Steorra_ , I _told_ you Yakov!” The woman bemoaned, an exasperated tone in her voice growing distance as Viktor slowly and silently mad his way through a gap in the crowds towards the ginnel behind the stall. “What are you just standing there for?”

“If I needed to move to catch a brat as rough with his magic as him, I would Lilia,” Yakov (as he was apparently called) scoffed. Viktor had been keeping his eye on them as he moved, keeping his movements silent and secret, but his eyes widened when he saw the filigree opalescent strands swirling in his palm like stars, their trails lingering an afterglow of lines against his eyes such was their piercing glow.

“Considering he managed to sneak past you, I wonder if his control is really that rough, just do something Yasha!”

‘ _Oh No!_ ’ He swore, abandoning his secrecy for speed. ‘ _He’s a solstice-born too!_ ’

Viktor raced as quick as he could amongst the crowd of people, but Yakov - wait, Yakov as in _Yakov Feltsman?_ He was an old GMG Champion! One of the best ever! - was more than capable of proving his words, and his spell was more silent, even more unseen, and ten times faster than anything he could have ever produced.

As Viktor was running, a blast hit him in the back, and all of a sudden he was suspended in the air, being pulled despite his struggles back towards the carpet stall. He kicked and swore his protests as the man - it really was Yakov Feltsman - dragged him from the air and slung him over the shoulder.

“Get off me! I don’t need it! Take it back! I don’t care!” Viktor growled, kicking the man in the chest to try and break free, only to bite his tongue. His feet felt as though he’d just bashed them against the metal gears of the rig his grandfather used to haul their nets in with (Viktor would later learn this was a type of defensive combative magic used by the imperial guard members, even after retirement).

The woman - who Viktor now guessed was Yakov’s wife, Lilia Baranovskaya - handed the merchant his cashbox with barley a glance.

“Sorry for the trouble, we’ll make sure he doesn’t cause you any more mischief. Would you mind leaving his comportment with us, rather than calling the city watch?” She asked, barely blinking.

“O-of course Ma’am, as long as my earnings are returned I have no problems,” the merchant assured her (if he was too scared to argue with her, Viktor would understand).

“Let go of me you dead dragon egg!” Viktor continued to snarl when he found himself being carried away. “Let go! Let go! Let go!”

Yakov, unsurprisingly, did not let him go. Instead Viktor found himself being dragged through the streets to a much less dilapidated area than the one he called home, and into a normal, average-looking thatched house.

“I don’t need your help! I wasn’t hurting anyone! Let me go!” Viktor snarled after he was dropped into a chair in the kitchen dining table; he tried to bolt for the door, but Mrs. Baranovskaya (Viktor was too scared to call her by her name even in his head), snapped her fingers and Viktor found his bottom seemingly stuck to the seat. In his desperation, he only succeeded in toppling the chair to the floor.

“If that’s your idea of an invisibility spell, then clearly you do,” Yakov snorted, re-righting the chair, Viktor and all. “Where do you live? Who the hell are your parents? Why hasn’t your magic been registered?” He demanded, seemingly angrier about that than Viktor’s budding criminal career.

Viktor looked away from him, refusing to answer the question about his parents directly. “I look after myself, stupid _leshiy_ ,” he grunted reluctantly. He could have made something up, but Mrs. Baranovskaya was watching him, and he highly doubted he’d be able to pull off a convenient lie to another solstice-born of the calibre owned by this married couple. “I didn’t need to tell anyone, so I didn’t!”

“If he has no family, it’s no wonder he hasn’t been registered Yasha,” Mrs. Baranovskaya murmured to her husband quietly, placing some water and glasses on the table; Viktor tried not to eye the clear fluid.

Yakov grunted from his own chair, before looking back to Viktor. “Surely you knew that you had to report your magic to the IMSA?” Yakov said. “If it isn’t done before you get older, your magic can get out of control! You could have killed yourself! It’s too strong to go for long without training, we aren’t just public entertainment!” he explained, voice even and… concerned.

Viktor stared at the two of them; why weren’t they shouting at him for stealing? All Yakov seemed to care about was that he wasn’t trained properly, and Mrs. Baranovskaya seemed to be the same. “You aren’t mad at me? For stealing that man’s money?” He asked suspiciously.

“Did you have a good reason for trying to take it?” Mrs. Baranovskaya asked him; her voice made Viktor instantly want to sit back up straight like when he was still at school.

“Yes Ma’am,” he blurted quickly. “I thought it was, at any rate,” he shrugged, trying not to fidget under her gaze.

“Then it doesn’t matter,” she waved a hand, as if blowing the matter aside. “Yakov speaks the truth however, Magic is dangerous when left raw and untrained. It has killed its owners in the past because as we age, it only grows stronger,” she explained. “It can destroy us from the inside out if we do not learn to make it heed our will, but control it too much and it is beyond our ability to cope. It is a living phenomenon we can only hope to try and understand, and if not given respect, it can and will get its own back.”

“It can?” Viktor blinked, feeling himself growing pale, and a very slight tear of panic glossing his eyes. Nobody had ever told him _that!_ If he’d known he would have told someone! His parents would have told if they had still been alive, he was sure.

“What’s your name, brat?” Yakov asked, leaning forwards with his hands clasped on the table, his eyes much less angry, and even more concerned.

“Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor said after a long, awkward moment.

What harm would it do? It wasn’t as though there was anyone who knew his name anyway. He didn’t even have a birth certificate anymore. It was locked away in the lost house in Dominicus somewhere.

“Alright, Viktor, do you know how old you are?” Yakov nodded encouragingly. “How long have you been using magic?”

The memory of his seventh birthday, when the river had frozen despite the lack of frost and snow suddenly came into Viktor’s head; in his mind’s eye, he could see the shocked and anxious looks his parents and grandparents had shared behind their cheer when they thought he wasn’t looking. It stuck out in his mind.

Had… had he done that? Why hadn’t his parents said anything? Then again, with the big move and war on their doorstep, finding out he had magic was probably not an immediate emergency, and honestly, Viktor did even remember doing anything to make the river freeze.

But he did remember waking up after the Gala.

“I turned twelve December just past,” Viktor said. “I think mainly for the past four years?” he said eyes flicking between the married couple. “But I think I might have used it before then. It’s hard to remember exactly though.”

Yakov and Mrs. Baranovskaya shared a look that to each other, probably spoke volumes without the need for words. To Viktor, it said absolutely nothing, and he reached tentatively for the glass of water. It was clear as crystal, and he was thirsty just looking at it. Most of the time he could get clean enough water using his magic, but it was still a little foggy sometimes. Water this clean was a luxury he couldn’t afford to pass up.

Reaching for the place, he ignored Mrs. Baranovskaya as her gaze settled on him, and to a sip. Then a large mouthful, then he gulped it down his throat. Who knew when he’d be able to have any so fresh and clear again?

“And you trained yourself?” Yakov asked; Viktor paused his gulps and nodded. Mrs. Baranovskaya refilled the glass wordlessly.

“That’s very dangerous Viktor,” she said, not scolding despite the words (in response to her question, Viktor shrugged around a few more mouthfuls”. “You could have hurt yourself. Did you really not think to ask for help from the IMSA? There are smaller schools.”

“I didn’t know where it was, so I couldn’t ask, and I don’t know the names of that many solstice-born either,” Viktor shrugged. “I figured it out myself anyway, so I didn’t need to!” He added stubbornly, reaching for the pitcher on the table for some more water.

“Impressive certainly, but still dangerous and stupid,” Yakov grunted. “Lucky for you, then, that you ran into two veterans in the marketplace, wouldn’t you say?”

Viktor froze; he didn’t like the sound of that. What did the man mean? How in all the stars and solstices was this lucky? He was stuck to a chair with magic! Didn’t this count as kidnapping?

“I’ll register you today,” Yakov continued. Viktor opened his mouth to protest but Yakov held up a hand. “It’s either that or the city watch - there’s been a string of mysterious stock disappearances in the place where we found you. I’m sure they’d be interested to hear about the invisible thief. You don’t have to stay any longer than you have to - I’ll only train you in what you want to know, and what you need to know to keep yourself safe,” he reasoned.

Viktor thought it through; he could probably slip away from the city watch, but if Yakov and Mrs. Baranovskaya told on him, he’d have to move to an unfamiliar part of the city. He could always just run away if he didn’t feel safe, and in the meantime, he would learn how to control his magic from one of its best masters. It seemed like his luck had finally turned, and Viktor nodded around another gulp of water. Yakov seemed to relax, and Mrs. Baranovskaya left the room.

While she was gone, Yakov tried asking him a few more questions about where he was from, his parents or family, but Viktor avoided answering in favour of more water. It was cool and clear on his throat, and refreshing; had it been spelled to stay cool? It felt like drinking liquid diamonds in comparison to what he usually had from the river. Yakov watched him, going silent once he realised Viktor didn’t particularly want to talk about his family.

Moments later Mrs. Baranovskaya came back with a sandwich and some milk which she placed directly infront of him. It was plain ham and cheese, with some kind of spread, and Viktor’s mouth watered at the sight of it. Just because he could steal food with magic didn’t mean he had the energy to do it every day. He also had to be careful with how he used it since he didn’t want any of the other street kids finding out.

“Eat,” Mrs. Baranovskaya prompted. Viktor couldn’t help sitting a little straighter as she spoke, immediately taking a bite from the sandwich. He also noticed that he was no longer stuck to the chair.

“Do you have any belongings you need to keep?” Yakov asked as Viktor tried not to ravage the meal he’d been given. “Once you’ve eaten that, I’ll take you to get registered, and then we can go get them.”

Viktor blinked, then furrowed his brows. “Why would I need my things?” He asked.

“We’ll if I’m going to mentor you, you’ll need to stay here, obviously. You can’t learn magic with just a couple of lessons a day. You have to make it your entire focus every day, even just for the basics,” Yakov said.

“You’ll have a room, and I’ll make a lock for it on the inside, one that will only work for you,” Mrs. Baranovskaya added. “If you have anything important, it will be safe that way,” she assured him. “You’ll be our apprentice - its only normal we give you somewhere to stay.”

“I have to live here?” Viktor blurted. “No-one said that!”

“It’s either that or the city watch Viktor,” Yakov shrugged. “Which is it going to be?”

Viktor almost let out a swear but one look from Mrs. Baranovskaya silenced him; he ought to have known there would be a catch. Then again, if he could eat some good food for a while and learn how to really use his magic, it might be worth it.

His original fall-back of running was always an option; he’d just have to be sneaky to avoid Yakov catching him again. In the meantime, however, Viktor turned his attention back to his sandwich.

* * *

_Reputations changeable, situations tolerable, but baby, you're adorable_

* * *

In the end, Viktor didn’t tell Yakov much about his family, or what had happened at the Dominicus GMG. He was so busy training, building up some muscle on his body after years of malnourishment, getting used to the other apprentices when they asked for Yakov’s mentorship (like Georgi) and readjusting to life within a house that it never came up.

For the first year he had fairly regular nightmares of moving, of leaving home behind; nothing good had ever come of it. The first time he left home for good, he’d lost contact with his grandparents. The second time he’d left home for an extended period, he’d lost his parents for good. For weeks, he woke up sweating and shivering, silently sneaking around the house to make sure it was still standing, that Yakov and Lilia were still asleep in their bedroom.

They noticed of course; one night Lilia must have heard him wake up, because she knocked on his bedroom door and came to check on him. It was the one and only time Viktor allowed himself to cry in front of her; it had been the fifth year without his parents that night, and he was a child. He had just turned thirteen.

She either didn’t tell Yakov, or Yakov chose not to ask, so as to spare the growing boy any more damage to his newly flourishing pride. Despite the rough first year, Viktor was far from the terrified and anxious, mistrusting boy they had (very literally) corralled into their care. He was settled and safe for the first time in years, and the married couple had been quick to adopt him into their lives.

Once after too much honey-mead, Yakov had admitted that their inability to have children (that not even magic could fix) had been causing some fractures in their marriage, and that having Viktor with them had helped to repair the close but fiery relationship he and his wife shared. Viktor had let the man hug him, then curled up in his room to hide the happy flush on his face in his pillow.

That had been the night the nightmares about the gala stopped. Yakov and Lilia would never be (or replace) his parents, but they were quickly becoming important to him, people who he knew cared for him, and whom it was safe to care about in return. With that revelation, he did his best to start showing it more.

Lilia (he had now allowed himself to call her that in his thoughts) did most of the cooking, though Yakov always made breakfast, and often made their evening meals when Lilia had prior engagements at her Coven. They both made it a point of getting him to help out, and Viktor soon remembered helping his grandmother.

After the first year had passed, he’d surprised them both on their anniversary by making a fish stew he remembered. It wasn’t the same as how his mother or grandmother would have made it, but it reminded him of that riverside croft he’d been born in. It felt like a whole world away now. Even his shack on the seafront seemed like a different lifetime.

Now, two years had passed since Yakov and Lilia caught him trying to steal in the market place, and His training had progressed in leaps and bounds that frequently astonished them both. Before he knew it, Viktor had received a silver inked envelope from the IMSA, a record considering how long he had been registered at all.

Yakov usually grumbled something about him having a better instinct for magic than his other students because he’d relied on it more when he was young. ‘ _It wasn’t a necessity for the others, so they didn’t need to get the same sense for it that you did,_ ’ he said once. Viktor didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that when Yakov introduced him to Sorcery, Wizardry, Charms, Enchantments, Divination, Combatism and Elemntalism, he took to them with the same ease he once found on his birthday, skating across the icy River Ny.

‘ _Elemental magic comes from within; it’s not based on natural essences like witchcraft, and you aren’t manipulating the cores of external sources like with potions - that’s why wand use is so common with it. You have to use your own magic, and know how to keep it going._ ’ Yakov had told him once, quoting a fellow mentor. ‘ _Your wand is there to direct the flow and improve your accuracy. Learn to utilise that._ ’

He could learn the spells faster than any of his fellow apprentices, and could pick up the physical flow of the magic inside him better than anyone else, controlling its pinpoint precision and flow even without the standard wand he’d been given after his novice tests. It was different from working hard like some of the others. Not that Viktor didn’t push himself as far as Yakov would let him (and sometimes further), but he simply had an advantage others didn’t, and it was easy to see.

He tired easily though - Yakov said his magic had been making up for his lack of nutrients for so long that he had inadvertently started absorbing it whenever he was hungry or thirsty. ‘ _It would have exhausted you eventually, bled you dry with no hope of rehydration,_ ’ his mentor had explained. That meant an increase of protein and fats in his diet, which Viktor had no problems with at all, but he still forgot sometimes that he could eat something whenever he wanted, and tended to inadvertently fast. ‘ _We need to try break that habit. It’s not healthy._ ’ Yakov continued to grumble whenever he caught Viktor forgetting and skipping meals, before stuffing sandwiches and fruit down his throat.

Despite his talents, there were still some things Viktor was not very good at, and using external magic forces was one of them. Yakov taught him the basic of each of arcane school - he had to by magical law - but Viktor found he had to work a lot harder than he was used to with those types of subjects.

Potions he could do, but the entire premise went against what Viktor had grown up with. Potions took time and patience he simply didn’t have after living off his instincts for so long. He liked it, but he knew he wouldn’t stick with it. Perhaps if he had continued to grow up with his tribe and his family, on the riverbank, he would have appreciated it more. The same was true of the arcane schools Lilia introduced him to.

Animism, Anti-Magic, Voodoo and Empathy were ones he struggled with the most, mainly because there was a lot of theory and calculations involved, but some were simply ‘ _of no use_ ’ to his style of magic. He appreciated Animism - it was a fantastic calling to have and there were countless things it could be useful for, but Viktor’s instincts leaned towards defensive and offensive magic. That also prevented his brain from focusing on Empathism.

Thanks to their contrasting nature, Combative Magic and Empathism didn’t mesh well together. It was one of those magical styles that where one tended to lean towards something specific. Viktor leaned towards combative magic. Tapping into the raw strains of emotion in his opponents was a fascinating idea, but something about it made him a little nervous.

Anti-Magic was the same; why on earth would he want to learn to dispel the very existence of something that had kept him alive and helped him more than anything else had? The very idea of the school made no sense to him, so he only learned how to defend his spells against it, and focused on his elemental training. Voodoo he loved the idea of, but Viktor, who had only had minimal schooling and hated numbers with a passion, simply couldn’t keep up with the formulas, and he had learned plenty that were far above the level of mathematics taught to normal children his age.

Witchcraft was that, and potions combined; he loved the idea of witchcraft, and could see how it had survived as a niche school for so long, but Viktor simply wasn’t one of its champions, thanks to the nurture of Dominicus’s twisting streets and alleyways. Taking so long to learn the basics of one school, regardless of how well it might prepare him for others, just didn’t strike him as practical.

Sorcery was different entirely; Viktor _loved_ sorcery, and he knew he was good at it. Yakov barely had to explain a concept of how to focus his power, what kind of mental image he was trying to project for certain spells, the point of release after his magic was concentrated through his wand, and within moments, he had a base execution of the spell. Usually, it took him a day or so to perfect it. Maybe two or three for the really difficult ones that made Georgi’s eyes green with envy, and little Mila (who didn’t live with them yes, as she was still small) Babicheva’s eyes shine wide with awe and excitement.

Yet despite his proficiency and rapid growth, Yakov was never happy with his sorcery, claiming his spells were missing something, and Lilia agreed - she said his magic had no body, no substance. For all the power they contained, simply from his near- (if not)-perfect execution, both agreed that his spells could be much better.

Viktor tried, he really did, but he had no idea what else he was supposed to do.

“ _Steorra_ , Viktor, I’ve told you once, twice, a thousand times! Put more emotion into your spells!” Yakov grumbled from the side of the training arena they were using. “This isn’t wizardry! If you’re going to keep casting things like this throughout the entire gala, I’m taking Sorcery out of your combat rota! They’re even worse than last week!” He sighed, waving his hand as a signal to take a break.

Viktor placed his wand into the holster on his thigh, and made for the edge of the sandy-floored hall. Yakov wordlessly handed him some sort of flapjack Lilia had made, and a bottle of fruit juice. “You’re so mean Yakov! It’s my fourteenth birthday, and my very first gala! Aren’t I allowed to be nervous?” Viktor pouted, taking the bottle as he sat down.

The practice arena they were using was one that had been set aside for the competitors of the 710th GMG. It was being held in Piter this time, and Viktor was delighted to be back in his home city. It would begin in another five days, running from the 30th of December until the 1st of January.

“With you teenagers, I have to be blunt, or there is no hope of you listening at all,” Yakov sighed, taking a seat beside him, watching with beady eyes as Viktor ate the flapjack, before handing him two more slices. “I’m worried about you Viktor; your magic has been all over the place all week. Are you worried about the matches?”

Viktor snorted, wondering if at one hundred and two Yakov was finally going senile. Viktor’s record spoke for itself; he was hardly worried about his competition in his own age group, and at best only cautious of the older competitors. He’d bested half of them by miles at some of the qualifying competitions he’d been in before receiving his invite. There was a reason he had made it to the GMG from the streets of Dominicus in under two years, and it was because of one fact; _he was just that good_.

“I’m fine Yakov, maybe a bit over excited, that all,” Viktor promised him, flashing a beaming smile around a mouthful of sticky, syrup covered oats.

“Don’t give me that look Vitya,” Yakov frowned. “I’m not stupid, if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, but take some time off from training for the next few days. That’s an order from your mentor.”

“What?” Viktor choked on his syrupy oats in disbelief. “That’s stupid! It’s so close to the Gala Yakov! I have to practice or-”

“Viktor, I know you don’t like it, but for once, listen to me,” Yakov said in a flat tone, one that usually meant he wouldn’t budge or relent no matter how much Viktor pestered him, or even ignored him. It was the one that made Viktor remember that Yakov could be just as fearsome as his wife. “Sorcery demands absolute mental strength and emotional power! If you don’t trust or want your spells, they won’t work!” his mentor repeated carefully, deliberately. “If your head and feelings aren’t in the right place for the spells you’re using, then not only do you put yourself at risk, and waste unnecessary magic, then you give your competitors a chance to take advantage of you. They can and will do it Viktor, so don’t give them the advantage.”

Viktor bit his lip, sinking and slumping into his seat and playing with the end of the plait he fastened his hair into that morning, an inside-out version of the usual simple style he used, but one he’d seen his father and grandfather use often. He wanted to try and liven things up a bit for the gala, so once they reached Piter, he’d been quick to try and figure out his old hairstyles. Viktor was proud of where he came from, and was determined to show it at the Gala.

“I guess I could go out and see the city tonight,” he mumbled reluctantly. “I haven’t been back for years,” he mused, trying to work out exactly how many it had been. He and his family had left in the early January after his seventh birthday, so it was near enough exactly seven years. He could hardly believe it. It didn’t feel like seven years. It felt like much longer, and yet hardly so long at the same time.

“You’re from the city?” Yakov raised an eyebrow; Viktor had to think before he remembered that he’d never told Yakov where he was from.

His heritage was indeed Pityerian, but it had never indicated he was from the city itself. The silver hair and blue eyes were a dead give-away his ancestry hailed from the area though. That said, none of the others in his tribe had the same river, sea, and sky graduation of blue that deepened or lightened with his mood in their irises, or the same metallic, almost pure silver gleam to their long locks; those were the traits that had always marked Viktor out as a solstice born, long before he knew what it was, along with his points now growing into his ears.

“About thirty miles north, on the River Ny,” Viktor said after a moment, trying to guess the distance. “I’m from one of the older tribes, a fishing croft on the banks with some land for goats; we sold at the waterway market here few times a week,” Viktor explained, staring out of the window at the waterfront the arena overlooked.

If he squinted, he could almost see the path their little spell-powered boat used to make the longer journey to the city powering gently through the floating streets and half-submerged brick buildings. His father had stockpiled wind-charms for the sails from a witch there. If he could find a boat, maybe he could visit his old home on the riverbank, check up on it a little, if it had survived the attacks from Alyaunte.

Yakov gave him a clam, steady gaze, as if he wanted to ask more but didn’t dare to. Viktor didn’t feel like volunteering more either. With his mind on the city, he was thinking of his family, his home on the riverbank. He knew it hadn’t been sold - his father had kept the key while they lived in Dominicus, he was sure of it. Maybe he could go back and see the old cottage… it was technically his now anyway.

“If you want to go wander around, go ahead. We’ll keep some food up at the hotel room for you,” Yakov said encouragingly. “Just try to be back before nightfall. Things have settled down since the 708th Gala, but Alyaunte’s air canoes still fly over on occasion. Lilia worries every time we come here.”

‘ _So do you,_ ’ Viktor could help smiling to himself fondly. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, and he meant it sincerely.

After Yakov had forced him to eat the last slab of flapjack and give him a yelling reminder to eat again before the afternoon was out, Viktor pulled up the hood of his short sorcerer’s cloak and headed out into the city, renting a small boat from one of the thousands of jetties.

He wondered, as he made his way through the floating part of the city, what his street-dwelling self would have thought if he had found out you got paid to study magic. All apprentices received a ‘ _small allowance_ ’ from the IMSA to help purchase materials for study, even though Mentors seemed to pay for everything. It was equal to what Viktor’s parents might have earned in a month, but Viktor guessed that for the solstice born not lucky enough to live with their mentor, or with things like potion ingredients or totems to buy, it didn’t stretch that far.

Taking care to avoid the main, busy waterways, Viktor used a little spell to push some wing into the sails of his boat, steering it up into the wide mouth of the Ny. Turning back, Viktor planted the image of Piter itself, situated at the wide estuary of the Ny, against that of his memory. It was much the same, and he was able to orientate himself.

As he pushed up the river, he soon realised that some of the landmarkings were gone, but most of the houses he recognised. He almost pulled over at a few when he recognised old faces, faces of those who had like as much gone back to their homes after the hostilities had calmed, or remained in the first place.

Eventually, he reached the jetty that led up to his childhood home. The dock was still in fairly good condition, and their old fishing boat was still there too, though the nets could use a little untangling and fixing.

Stepping out not the wooden boards, the creaks were like whispers welcoming him home, and he followed it towards the small river beach; the tower cottage had been built on a meander, and it rose some distance from the sand banking.

There was a small three storey tower to the left with a thatched dome where the bedrooms were, an outdoor stairway circling then tower to each level; Viktor’s had been in the attic, his parents on the first floor, and his grandparents had the room with a doorway directly into the kitchen. It was over grown with local trailing ivy, and mesembryanthium, their pink and orange yellow and purple faces glowing open in the sunset, just on the verge of closing for the night.

Beside the tower was another set of thatched buildings; the large ovular kitchen and living space was attached to the tower itself, and the old goat sheds and storage buildings were separated to one side, along with the smokehouse and the vegetable garden. One of the storage sheds was crumbling ruins, and the goat sheds looked like they had caught fire at one end, but half of them were okay.

The goats were long gone - his grandfather had driven them to a market inland somewhere before they had moved to sell, along with their pony - and in their absence nature had taken over most of the buildings, but aside from the damage it was the same as ever. As if they had never left.

Chewing the inside of his lip and cheek, Viktor went to one of the remaining sheds, where the spare key used to be kept behind the grain bins for the goat feed. After a moment fishing around, he felt his eyes welling as his hand closed around the cool metal of the key. Dusting off the cobwebs that had surrounded it in his absence, he quickly went to the house.

Raising it to the door handle, he could see his hands shaking as the key went into the lock, and he had to twist it with both hands to get the door open. He also had to tear away some of the vines which had begun to grow over the small door. Ducking a little, he headed down the steps into the house, the soles of his boots clacking on the stone floor.

Sending a flicker of magic up into the air to light the room, Viktor stared at the thick dust surrounding everything, trying to imagine his grandfather’s face if he could see it. He’d probably have a heart attack - he had been fastidious about being clean and tidy.

Looking around, Viktor could see every sign that his parents had intended to return clear as day. His grandfather’s elderflower wine was still on the wall rack next to the sloe gin that had always helped Viktor sleep when a little mixed into his tea, and his father’s honey mead. His grandmother’s quilting basket was beside the pechka (which was still covered with his mother’s pots and pans). The jigsaw his grandfather had been working on was still in place on the dining table, and his father books were still in the bookcase.

Mostly it was the family portraits that still hung on the wall, and the sparing few black-and-white photographs that they had saved up for. Viktor looked to the one of his parents hanging on their wall, then around the room. Murmuring a basic spell he’d seen Lilia and Yakov use from time to time, he swept the dust out of the room through the doorway. Then he focused on one of his wizardry spells to conjure a thin, delicate black veil from sheer cloth, and hung it over the picture of his parents. It wasn’t the proper funeral they should have had, asking the ancestors to watch over their passing, protect their remaining family from malicious spirits, but hopefully it would help.

After cleaning out the bedrooms too, Viktor sat down on the chair by the fire reserved for his mother and pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to decide what to do next. What had he come here for exactly? To feel closer to his parents? He hardly needed to. He knew they were dead. He’d know that for years. Some contact with his grandparents might be possible - he could check the desk for the name of their friend in Manchuria - but aside from that, what was he supposed to achieve here?

He sat trying to figure it out for a long time, until the sun was low on the horizon, and he knew that staying any longer would make Lilia (and Yakov) start to worry. He took a few moments to look through the desk in one corner of the room, snatching as many of the official documents as he could to look through later, as well as some trinkets, and a few sets of the musty but familiar tunics that his father and grandfather had worn.

Then, he quickly left the house, moving to lock the door behind him. As he began to close It, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in response to a magical presence. Looking around, frantic and on guard - they were technically still a war zone even if the fighting was over, and Alyaunte soldiers had been spotted trying to sneak in to Ruthenia - he saw nothing.

The presence was still there, but after waiting, listening, focusing on the feeling, Viktor realised it wasn’t hostile. “Hello?” He called out, looking first around the living room, then out at the rest of the croft, beyond the bounds into the thick pine forest beyond. “I someone there?” He asked. If it was someone from one of their sister tribes, they might have seen the lights on and come to check. They might not recognise him. “My name is Viktor Nikiforov, I used to live here! Is someone from our sister tribes here?” He asked.

As soon as he asked it, he realised it couldn’t be. Not unless someone else had been a secret solstice born, and there were always years before an area produced a second unless they were very large or very built up, like Dominicus. The presence seemed to brighten at his name, and it was enough for Viktor realise that he wasn’t talking to a human at all, but a _domovikha_. Glancing towards the goat sheds, he could see a pair of warm brown eyes watching him from the shadowy doorway.

Immediately — he remembered Lilia and his grandfather’s lesson about spirits well — and he brought his hands together in front of him, bowing deeply. “I apologise for disturbing you; thank you for looking after the croft in my family’s absence,” he called out sincerely. Digging around in his pocket he found a bit of flapjack and nearly kicked himself; salt would have been better, or even some of his grandfather’s tobacco, but it would have to do. “It’s not much, after all your help and care, but I hope you like it,” he said.

Leaving the flapjack on the doorstep, he quickly locked the door, and slid the key into a secure pocket of his tunic. Pressing his hands to the door, he took a long look around the ramshackle old croft before casting a barrier spell so that no-one would be able to disturb it. If a domovikha had been looking after it, then Viktor didn’t want the kindly — but temperamental — spirit’s kindness to go to waste.

He didn’t remember one from his childhood, but he did remember his mother and grandmother talking fondly about a phantom presence he’d never seen. Perhaps it was the domovikha he sensed tonight. If so, he definitely needed to show his appreciation.

Viktor might not be able to do much else right now, but he would come back eventually. Maybe after he found his grandparents, ‘ _when, not if,_ ’ he said to himself determinedly. He’d be able to help out much more now that he could use his magic properly too.

Before climbing back into the boat he’d hired, he took one last glance at the house from the dock; as his hand rested on the posts holding the boards in place, something clicked in the old seams and grains of the wood like an echo. A spark of magic escaped his fingers, and traveled down into the water below, spreading out in a delicate frozen filigree. Viktor stared in surprise, then smiled wistfully. “Sorry old friend, but I can’t skate today,” he told the river. As his hand left to post, the magic faded, and the ice melted back into the murky river, as if despondent at the reply.

Turning around, he jumped into his boat, and took off, hurling the wind into the sails as hard as he could without tearing them. It didn’t take long to get back to Piter, and once there he found himself rushing through the streets to the competitor’s guild every GMG provided in order to make his nightfall deadline.

After a hurried check in at the reception, holding up his pink and blue and purple swirled rose gold medallion as identification, he raced up the stairs to the rooms he shared with Lilia, Georgi, and Yakov. Lilia was seated on the sofa, book in some runic script Viktor had no patience to learn in her hand, but her head flicked up sharply seeing the shaking teen as he flattened his back against the door, banging it closed and clutching the few belongings he’d taken from his home tightly to his chest.

“Georgi, can you give us a minute? Yakov! Yasha!”

Viktor slid to the floor, still holding onto the tunics and paperwork (and one of the photographs), barely registering that he was shaking or that there were tears streaming down his face in front of Lilia again. He felt drained, exhausted, scared and terrified. Like he was falling apart. But he refused to — he’d come too far and done too much to let himself do that now. He was fourteen! He wasn’t a scared child anymore!

“Yash-”

“It’s nothing Lilia!” Viktor gasped out, trying to catch his breath after all the running. “I just didn’t want to be late, I promise! Turns out I don’t remember Piter as well as I thought!” He laughed, forcibly. “But! Look what I found in the market! I haven’t worn Pityerian tunics in years! Aren’t they wonderful?” He beamed, desperate to distract her.

Lilia didn’t look at all convinced, but she took one of the worn tunics he held up, examining the details on the collar and belt and hems with care. Her hands soothed over the faded fabric, but she said nothing. “They’re very well made - I take it this means you want to change your competition clothes again?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Viktor beamed, and nodded. “I think I’ll let my hair down for it too.”

Lilia gave a noise of acknowledgement holding the tunic up against his frame with an appraising eye. “The colours are good, but it will need protective spells, and I’ll have to alter it to fit you a little better. Will that be a problem?” She asked. “You have lots of practice lined up,” she added.

Viktor shook his head. “Yakov told me to take a break for a few days so I’m just going to do my conditioning and meditation,” he explained. “I think I got a bit overexcited. I don’t want to mess up my spells on the day of the competition.”

“Very well, we’ll go through these and sort them tomorrow; go wash them first though, and use magic. They need freshening too - the fabric smells of animals. Only the stars must know how long they’ve been sitting in that stall,” she said, her eyes flinty with concern.

“I will Lilia,” Viktor promised.

As he replied Yakov finally joined them from the bathroom. “What’s all the noise about Lilyukha? I thought-” the older man stopped, his eyes landing on Viktor, and his brows furrowed in confusion. “Vitya, where on earth did you get that dog?”

Viktor stared, then looked down; standing right beside him was a fluffy poodle, with oats caught in the curly fur around her muzzle, tongue losing happily from her mouth as she beamed up at him. Her tail wagged across the floorboards ever so endearingly, and she leaned her head against his leg.

Viktor stared at the dog — no, not a dog, the domovikha — then back to Yakov. “I have absolutely no idea, but can I keep her? I think she wants to be my familiar!” He begged.

“Not until she gets a bath,” Lilia said pointedly before he husband could get a word in edgeways. “I don’t care if this isn’t our home, I won’t live with something that smells of musty goats.”

Yakov groaned, the sound of a man who had endured much.

* * *

_I'm so tired of being lonely, I still have some love to give; won't you show me that you really care._

* * *

Makkachin - Viktor had finally remembered the name of his family’s domovikha after a night of memories and night terrors rolled into one - turned out to be the breath of fresh air Viktor hadn’t realised his life was missing.

Throughout the next five days leading up to his first gala, Viktor took a break for the first time in a long time, and he spent it talking in rapid Pityerian (something else he had thought he’d long forgotten) with the ' _poodle' instead of the common Ruthenian he normally used as Lilia helped him adjust the tunics for the competition._

__

It was strange having a familiar; it was like having a whole part of himself separate from his body, but Viktor liked it. Lilia said it had taken a while to get used to her sleek, black raven, and he knew that in time, he would get used to that constant presence, the eternal reassurance that he wasn’t entirely alone even when Makkachin wasn’t in the room anymore.

Even having a familiar didn’t protect him from his own feelings though, and despite his attempts to calm down his nightmares began to come back the closer and closer the days came to the gala. Viktor began to wonder if he’d been naïve to think he could compete in the gala at all.

The first night he didn’t sleep, Yakov put it down to nerves, but the second night, he started to get worried. When Viktor showed up for morning conditioning on the third day with bags under his eyes, he marched him straight back to his room.

It worked, for a little while. Viktor got half an hour’s rest before the bright purple light of a spell so powerful it reduced half an arena to rubble filled his eyes, and that single, life changing wave of utter terror forced him out of dreams, leaving him gasping for breath, sweating, exhausted, distraught, and desperate for the company his new familiar was providing.

By the fourth day, Viktor was a shaking, jittery mess. Even Georgi had noticed, the other fourteen-year-old watching him with an anxious gaze as much as Lilia and Yakov as they practiced. Georgi might be envious of his skill, but he was Viktor’s psuedo-brother, and they were what he liked to presume were friends. Viktor hated seeing him worry too.

Not wanting to distract Georgi from his training, Viktor fled to a different practice arena, doing his best to exhaust himself trying to do as Yakov said, and put the right emotions into his Sorcery spells, but if anything, everything just seemed to get worse. In his frustration, Viktor quickly muttered the incantation for a wizardry based fire ball, hurtling it at one of the targets at the very end of the arena.

Only, apparently his Wizardry was useless now too, because instead of burning the target, it exploded in his face, sending the teenager crashing back into the barrier just as his Mentor came in looking for him.

Groaning on the floor as Yakov checked him over, Viktor bit back tears of frustration. The gala was tomorrow! What had happened to his magic? Why was this happening now? Would he even be able to cast a boil cure spell? Or the gentle charm he’d made up to unknot his hair in the mornings (the one Lilia insisted he put into public marketing one day). At this rate, he doubted it.

“You’re not hurt, but I don’t want to see you anywhere near a practice arena Vitya,” he said, voice flat and anxious; Viktor didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. “Let’s go,” Yakov said firmly, half lifting the teenager to his feet.

They made their way back to the competitor’s guild. Yakov forced him to go have a bath, and then watched with beady eyes as a hot stew went into his belly. Then he wordlessly gave Viktor one of the boring books on runic scripts to read.

Viktor hated Runic scripts. He knew he needed to know them - they added layers of depth to every kind of magic - and he drilled them into his brain, but he’d only memorised a couple, despite Yakov’s attempts to have him learn more. The books always bored him so much he fell asleep.

This time, with Makkachin cuddled up with him on his bed, he tried to absorb himself in the book as much as possible; he just wanted to stop feeling for a while. Maybe that was why even his wizardry had been affected along with his sorcery. He felt like he was feeling everything right now, and that was just as bad in wizardry as not focusing emotion was in sorcery (Viktor dreaded to think how it would affect his magic if he’d chosen to study empathy).

Going home had been a terrible idea. All it had done was remind Viktor of just how much he missed his parents and grandparents. In spite of the strange companionship he’d found with Lilia, Yakov and even Georgi, it just wasn’t the same.

That night, hours before the GMG opening magic show was due to begin, Viktor woke up screaming with tears running down his face and Yakov’s arms holding him tight as he choked and sobbed through the lingering sensations of loss and fear that had been brought from the night terrors. It was if the purple light of the spell was all he could see, and all he could hear was the piercing whistle as it fell down from the night sky. He could feel the searing heat on his face as it engulfed the stadium, and he remembered what had happened.

His father had instinctively tried to usher them out, before deciding against it, and he had tried to shelter his son and wife instead. Viktor remember being pulled into his mother’s arms, terror gripping his heart as the fear welled up and the desperate urge to hide or flee summoned his dormant magic. Then the spell hit, and rubble and fire had rained down around them in an instantaneous bubble. His parents hadn’t stood a chance. Had it not been for his magic, Viktor would have joined them.

As he calmed slightly, Yakov was joined seconds later by Lilia, who pulled him close and let him cry all over her shoulder again as he babbled in incoherent Pityerian neither of them spoke. He sobbed out that he didn’t want to compete, that just the thought of standing in the arena again terrified him more than anything else. That sorcery scared him because that’s what the destructive bombardment had been (he remembered reading it in a paper he stole). How could he even hope to control something like that when putting real emotion behind it?

Lilia rubbed circles on his back, and he felt Yakov’s fingers running through his hair as he continued talking, telling them where he had gone, where he had been before they found him. He told them everything, and nothing at all.

Georgi stood at the door, presumably woken by the screaming and commotion, sleepy eyed and concerned. It was a good thing Mila was still too young to move in with Lilia and Yakov permanently, else she would probably have been terrified. As Viktor settled, his brother apprentice must have disappeared into the kitchen, because he came back with a mug of smoked tea, sweetened with bilberry preserve.

Viktor swallowed thick, hot mouthfuls, leaning against Lilia, still mumbling away to her and Makkachin about how he wished he knew where to start to find his grandparents, but was too scared to in case they resented him for not finding them sooner, or in case they were gone too. They weren’t solstice born like Yakov and Lilia, who would probably live for another fifty years before even their magical bodies would be exhausted. They were normal people.

As he mumbled incoherently, Yakov left to hustle Georgi back to his room, and Viktor began to suspect that Georgi - whose attune with empathy and potions was bested by none of their ‘ _parents_ ’ other apprentices - had slipped him something to help him rest, because he didn’t remember falling asleep again. Later on, he asked Georgi what he put in the tea, and his answer made Viktor wonder how much his friend had worked out just by listening to Viktor’s overflowing head and heart - ‘ _Sloe Gin, I just got a feeling it would help_ ’.

The next evening, preparing for the midnight magic show that opened the gala, Viktor was much more in tune with himself. Somehow, he got through the opening show, his charms dancing beneath the stars and enchantments bewitching the hearts of the crowds. The first night with no unexpected events, went a long way to calming Viktor’s nerves. The night of the matches themselves, they returned, but the slight shakes in his fingers could easily be put down to nerves of his first real match instead of fear.

The competitor wings at the sides of the arena were small rooms beneath and within the stands, and Yakov led there with an arm around his should, mumbling things he didn’t really hear in his ear and glaring at a few of the reporters and photographers who made as if to come speak to them. Officials were running around everywhere, and the radio broadcast was already giving a run-down of the competitors. Viktor could hear someone botching his surname in common over it.

Who was he against in his first round again? Ah, Cao Bin, from Manchuria. Easily twice Viktor’s age, and an active member of the Imperial Guard (like Yakov had been once).

He felt dread line his stomach as Yakov walked him into the competitor’s waiting area, and he sat down as he felt it churn at the noise of the crowds, the excitement. ‘ _What if the new protection spells fail?_ ’ He could help thinking. This was what it had been like that night in Dominicus. Excitement and chatter. ‘ _What if Alyaunte attacks again?_ ’ He had just got his life together. He’d come so far since then, and Viktor didn’t think he could fix it again!

“Watch out for his Anti-Magic,” Yakov warned, “He might be scraping for a gala win, but right now his is the best there is. What other magic does he use?” He prompted, distracting his shaking student from his disintegrating calm; Viktor grabbed onto the distraction, forcing himself to remember watching Cao Bin’s practice (his Anti-Magic really was as phenomenal as Yakov said).

“Potions, Enchantments, Voodoo, Animism, Empathy, Wizardry. His charms are lacklustre, not much to worry about,” Viktor parroted, tugging at the cuffs of his tunic - Lilia had fixed it and he’d picked out a bright blue she said matched his eyes; it had been the one his father used for market day, so using it for battle seemed fitting.

“But that doesn’t make him any less dangerous; his techniques are the polar opposite of yours Vitya, please, don’t let him take advantage of that,” Yakov pleaded, hands on his face, forcing Viktor to look him in the eye. “Something, I don’t know what, is bothering you Viktor. It has been since the you got your invite - I’m old, not blind. Tell me honestly, please, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

Viktor bit his lip. He knew he was way past the point of backing out now; he was too stubborn and too proud to do so, but Yakov’s anxious expression broke a little of the stubborn willpower that had got him this far.

“I’m scared…” he mumbled. “I’m _scared_ Yakov, I scared of magic that strong…” He whispered; it wasn’t the honesty Yakov wanted (nor the trust that Viktor both gave and still owed him), but it was the best he could admit to.

“Good, I’d be worried if you weren’t,” Yakov said quietly, as if he knew that just the fear of the magic wasn’t what Viktor was talking about - the old centennial probably did. “Fear is the safest instinct to have sometimes. Trust your instincts Viktor - you always have. If you’re scared, use that, fuel yourself with it,” he urged, pulling Viktor into a hug.

Viktor clung to his mentor, taking a bit of reassurance and solace from the feeling of safety Yakov’s grumpy disposition had always held. It was enough to calm him, and he stepped back smoothing out his tunic with the mindless need to fill time. The announcement would be soon.

"I made sure Makkachin was registered. I know you haven't practiced, but if you need her, just call out to her," Yakov added. "She's your familiar. She'll find a way to help you," he said assuredly. Dimly he realised they were now walking towards the entrance; he could hear the stadium announcements and cheers of the crowd for his opponent.

‘ _Next up, this season’s youngest competitor!_ ’

The roar of enthusiasm as they walked underneath the stands toward the maw of the arena entrance was deafening, and thrummed above their heads. Viktor almost didn’t hear his mentor’s last-minute promise.

“If you can’t handle it Vitya, just don’t do it. Promise me - Lilia and I would never be disappointed in you if you didn’t want to continue, whatever the reason. You’re worth far more than any stupid magic show,” Yakov said, gripping his shoulder tight, firm and supportive.

‘ _His fourteenth birthday was celebrated only five days ago, and his arcane schools of choice are Sorcery, Combatism, Elementalism, Charms, Enchantments, Wizardry, and Divination, much akin to those of his Mentor, former legend Yakov Feltsman!_ ’

“I think I can keep that,” Viktor nodded. “I promise Yakov,” he said taking a deep breath.

‘ _Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, put your hands together for this season's dark horse, representing Piter, Viktor Nikiforov!_ ’

At the sound of his name, and the thunderous roars of approval from the Pityerians in the crowd, Viktor exhaled, and dashed out of the walkway, into the arena with smile on his face, desperately hoping he looked as though he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

* * *

_I've been fobbed off, and I've been fooled,_  
_I’ve been robbed and ridiculed in daycare centres and night schools._  
_Been stuck in airports, terrorised, Sent to meetings, hypnotised,_  
_Overexposed, commercialised_

* * *

**THE BULLETIN -** **GRAND MAGIC GALA SPECIAL EDITION  
** _The Pityerian Prince, Viktor Nikiforov, Makes the Stars and Moon Collide at the 710th Grand Magic Gala!_

Tears, and Triumphs; An Overview of The Finals by _Mathieu Moretti._

 

> Despite the betting pools against him (and the competitors levels and years above him in experience) Viktor Nikiforov has defied all expectations and re-written GMG history in his hometown of Piter.
> 
> After a shaky start and clear nerves, the mysterious young boy who began raising a storm at qualifying competitions mere months after registry, has not only won the completion, but done so in record length matches, and made magical history in the process.
> 
> The first matches in the Battle Arena got off to a good start, with many eyes on Nikiforov’s first match against Cao Bin, a regular face at the gala for the past five years, and one of the senior Imperial Guards. Against such a fearsome and experience opponent, most of the betting pools were on Bin.
> 
> Known for his skills in Anti-Magic - skills which brought him rapidly through the military rankings - Bin quickly shut down Nikiforov’s adept use of elemental magic. Switching to Wizardry, Nikiforov managed to send his opponent spiralling back to the walls of the arena, fusing his energy blast into combative work.
> 
> this was the start of his turnaround, but not before Bin managed to return the gesture with a barrage of sporific Potions designed to induced hallucination; this later garnered some questions regarding the use of such magic on the young competitor, as Nikiforov was almost incapacitated, showing some emotional responses until he managed to utilise a neutralising charm against the potions.
> 
> Yet this was not the comeback that shocked and awed the arena audience; Bin, still very much confident of a win in the first round, took advantage of his pull ahead to cast a small Sorcerial blast (the same type of spell which caused such destruction at the 708th Gala in Dominicus) at the disadvantaged Nikiforov.

\- _Picture inset of the engorged Sorcerial blast that destroyed the Dominicus Arena at the 708th Gala in 7755-PD_ -

\- _Picture inset of Cao Bin’s Sorcerial blast_ -

 

> At first, it seemed as though that would be the end of Nikiforov’s first season on the competitive circuit, and who can blame him for looking a bit overwhelmed (perhaps even terrified) in the face of overwhelming experience?
> 
> When his invite was first announced, the IMSA and Yakov Feltsman were both heavily questioned on the decision to allow a minor into the competition, but the controversy was quickly quelled by Nikiforov himself, who insisted and stressed that he had argued with his mentor for several weeks before accepting the invitation.
> 
> Indeed, no-one would have been surprised or disappointed had the young boy decided to throw in the towel; making the first round at such a young age at all is already a history rewrite, and I’m certain Piter would have been proud of their new champion regardless.
> 
> Yet Nikiforov decided to do none of this; his mentor has called him ‘ _stubborn as a sphinx_ ’ in previous interviews, and Nikiforov proved true to the claim in his first match.
> 
> Nikiforov, forgoing his former reticence on Sorcery, used a defensive spell with such strength that it very nearly blinded not just Bin, but myself and the audience. Creating an opening for himself, he used a quick, but effective spell of his own invention to separate Bin from his potions belt (and supply of hallucinogens).
> 
> The battle then moved into Combatism - Nikiforov might also have been at a disadvantage here due to heightened differences, but managed to hold his own, utilising the adrenaline-based magic and powerful sorcery to send Bin flying once again.
> 
> Bin responded with equal fervour - despite the title of Gala champion as yet eluding him, he has never been out of contention - utilising one of the draining anti-magic spells he is famous for with what I suspect was a direct Empathic spell, intending to exhaust Nikiforov out of the round mentally and magically.
> 
> For a second time, it looked as though Nikiforov had reached the peak of his current combat skill, and the blast seemed to swallow him. Then, his place as a champion of the future, if not Piter 710, was cemented in the audience's eyes.
> 
> Nikiforov rebounded the spell, pushing the onslaught of his own emotional sensation to his opponent with the pink shimmer associated with empathy spells, before rushing Bin as he struggled to counter the unexpected counter.
> 
> Combining his skilled green flow of combative magic with elemental proficiency, within minutes, Bin was encased in Ice from the neck down, snow had swamped the arena and the skies, and Viktor Nikiforov had made magical history.

\- _Picture inset of the arena; snow covers the ground, and Cao Bin is encapsulated in ice. Nikiforov lays exhausted beside him, hands on his head and tears of joy with his win on his face._ -

 

> For those confused, I will clarify the magnitude of this accomplishment; combative magic and empathic magic is, by very definition, contrasting. When we train, it is extremely difficult to learn both arcane schools at matching levels, and not even legends like Yakov Feltsman, Lilia Baranovskaya, Celestino Cialdini, or Cěsarĭ Nikolai himself have ever accomplished such a feat.
> 
> Using basic spells is possible, but using both types of magic at the competitive level of proficiency required by the Grand Magic Gala had never been accomplished. To counter either magic, the two schools generally boil down to the amount of personal magical energy held by competing solstice born, and stamina is generally the deciding factor.
> 
> What Viktor Nikiforov did was not outlast his opponent or overpower the empathic spell cast upon him with combative magic adrenaline - his stamina is unsurprisingly low given his age, and another disadvantage he faces.
> 
> What this young boy, barely fourteen, did was return Bin’s magic with a raw form of his own emphatic spell - made clear by the spark colour generated in the aftermath of the spell - seconds before closing the battle with combative attacks and combination Elementalism strong enough to cover the arena and linger in the atmosphere for five minutes following the round.
> 
> In his first round, at his very first GMG, Viktor Nikiforov displayed levels of magic skill and potential that hasn’t been seen since the early days of Cěsarĭ Nikolai’s time in the competitive circuits as a Carévič.
> 
> His ability has continued to shine all the way through to the final against Edna Deúca, where he once again used empathic and combative styles in combination, quashing any rumours that his accomplishments were simply luck or fluke.
> 
> He is now the undisputed champion of the 710th Grand Magic Gala. He has made history of the previously unaccomplished, and a new standard of magical standard has been set, by a fourteen year old boy.
> 
> The sun moon and stars themselves probably couldn’t have aligned themselves more perfectly than when they did fourteen years ago on December 25th, 7747-PD.

\- _Picture inset of Viktor Nikiforov holding the rose gold Geoffrey Monmouth Trophy - Hat wand and potion flask - beside his new familiar, mentors Yakov Feltsman and Lilia Baranovskaya, and fellow apprentice Georgi Popovich_ -

**OTHER GALA FESTIVITIES AS THEY HAPPENED**

 

> **Outside the Battle Arena;** A look at the individual gala titles in the singular arcane school categories so far, and individual solstice born by _Hanna Morven_ , Page 02
> 
> **Potioneering Championships;** Christophe Giacometti achieves first place mere days after becoming the youngest potions master in history (and I can’t contain my pride) by _Joseph Karpíšek_ , Page 03
> 
> **Competitors of The Future - A run-down of the Novice Trials held in Piter;** From witchcraft to animism and enchantments to Elementalism we meet the solstice born of the future, from ten-year-old Yuuri Katsuki’s astounding potion and witchcraft potential, and Jean-Jaques Leroy, the five year old heir to the Leroy family with a prodigal penchant for anti-magic by _Morooka Hiashi_ , Page 07
> 
> **The Newest Finds from The Great Exhibition;** The latest in automotive energy charms and enchantments, the newest developments in alarm curses for everyone by _Muramoto Satsuki_ , Page10.
> 
> **This Year’s Highlights of the Independent Arcana Fair;** How much longer will less popular schools of arcane study be relegated from the main festivities? By _Ika Thomas_ , Page 20.
> 
> **Carévič Yuri; the first pictures released!** Carévna Tatiana introduces the world to the two-year-old future Cěsarĭ at his first GMG, and his favourite cat; as you can imagine, his grandfather’s tales of his first magic bursts are appropriately adorable. The first interview with the imperial family since Dominicus 708 by _Andrei Fochabers_ , Page 21.

* * *

_Everybody's got somebody to lean on; Put your body next to mine, and dream on._

* * *

The years passed by in a flurry of practice, practice, practice; Viktor never did tell Yakov about his home on the Ny river, or the parents he’d lost in Dominicus.

His silvery grey hair - which would have made his grandfather proud of its good condition and lengthy spill down his back - was burned away by a fire Elementalist in the 711th Gala at Velká Morava, and he couldn’t bring himself to search Huating when he traveled there for the 712 qualifying competitions. He couldn’t bring himself to face the chance of seeing them without it, and decided he wouldn’t try until it was back to a respectable length.

Makkachin became his fiercest, closest companion, besides Chris and his would-be adoptive family. He knew Lilia and Yakov worried, but training became a solace after that first battle against Cao Bin, but he was content - maybe nothing was perfect, but when had his life ever been as blessed as it appeared? Not since he was a child. It didn’t concern him.

He had other things to celebrate, like his appointment as the Imperial Magical Advisor at twenty one. How many solstice-born could achieve such a standard? Few. Viktor was the youngest to hold the position, making history again as he was introduced to Cěsarĭ Nikolai and his young grandson (who watched him with hostile fascination).

Viktor might never have realised how right Yakov and Lilia were to be concerned had it not been for the 712th GMG in Parthenope, and the accompanying Celebration Festival.

That was where he first saw the Witch Lilia had sung praises of, her old student’s protégé, to Yakov and Georgi for weeks after the Coven Trials (which had been after Piter). It was when Yakov told him he might just have some real competition, and Georgi told him to be wary of ‘ _the new Waspian representative_ ’ when he returned from training with Celestino.

It was where he watched the Potioneer Chris swore was better than him make laughter and fun in a bottle that tasted like starlight, sweets, and the excitement of new things, then brew love spells like water and push one of the bottles into Viktor’s astounded hands in the forests of Parthenope, looking for Unicorns.

It was where he watched a sixteen year old weave fire spells and runic scripts in the middle of battle so intricately it entranced the crowds far more than Viktor’s outlandish magic ever could.

It was when Katsuki Yuuri did what Yakov wanted Viktor to do through his first battle with Cao Bin, what he’d pleaded with him to do (what Viktor couldn’t bring himself to do), and pulled out of the gala at the semi-finals.

Katsuki Yuuri was his antithesis from magic to mind, and he was as enchanting as the delicate, fervent charms he watched him cast on the tiny Kitsune in the arena, overflowing with emotion and fear that Viktor could do nothing with but exhaust on his opponents or bottle away, never to be felt again.

He was a contrast and a change Viktor hadn’t known he needed, and when he heard Chris mention his fellow potioneer going on a foraging trip to the mountains of Říp, Viktor couldn’t help himself.

He dropped everything for the nearest air frigate. All he had to go on was a spell to track magic he’d learned from Yakov, but somehow, he stumbled across the clearing where a potion bottle lay innocuously on the ground. The bottom was stamped with the insignia from Yuuri’s medallion (which Viktor had memorised from that fleeting glance at the Celebration Festival.

Only, turning it upside down to examine it emptied the contents all over his cloak when the lid, dislodged from its fall to the ground, loosened. Then he was surrounded by snow leopards, and wishing he’d paid more attention to Lilia’s animism lectures like Georgi did.

Then Yuuri appeared, frantic, and distracted the beasts, swept him up into the skies, and burned his favourite cloak; he was just as entrancing as the first time Viktor set eyes on him, and the prospect of another adventure was too good to resist.

Of course, nothing went as planned. Viktor had only got in the way collecting ingredients and brewing the potion, and he had no idea how to lure leopards. He botched his spell fantastically. Really, Yuuri had done all the work, saving them both and fixing Viktor’s mess, and casting breath-taking elemental magic before collapsing into a pile amongst the snow.

* * *

_I've been uptight and made a mess, but I'll clean it up myself, I guess; Oh, the sweet smell of success!_

* * *

Viktor stared at the rush of flames as they dissipated, then his eyes settled on the back of the witch to whom the spell belonged in awe.

“Yuuri… was that… _Kitsune-bi?_ ” He asked in astonishment, trying to work out what had just happened. Viktor had seen incredible magic before, but kitsune-bi was notorious. Few fire Elementalists could cast it at all, such was the precise control required for the spell.

“That was amazing! I had no idea you could cast something like that! Not even Mila or John-Jack can cast that spell, and you even combined it with-”

Viktor’s praise cut off as Yuuri crumpled to the ground, swaying for a moment on his feet as he had been all day, before his legs gave out. “Yuuri…? Yuuri…!” Viktor started, rushing over to his fellow magical.

Why hadn’t he pressed more? He’d seen the teenager swaying on his feet several times, but hadn’t felt it was his place to pry, and now he regretted it. A quick check with the back of his hand to his forehead indicated that Yuuri was completely burning up.

He had a high fever, and was obviously sick, yet he’d traipsed around the chill mountain winter world around them with dogged determination to catch a male and female leopard. He said it was for a fertility potion to help his friends, and Viktor was loathe to let him fail just because of a silly fever.

That said, they were not to be underestimated, and having fallen into freezing water (more Viktor pushed him, but it had been a desperate measure when a feral leopardess wanted to make them her lunch), he was at risk of catching pneumonia.

Viktor was no Witch or Bokor, but he knew to at least travel with basic healing potions, even if he couldn’t make them. And so, Viktor carried the younger man on his back all the way back to the cave, his tiny familiar watching him with beady watchful eyes from beneath his hat the entire journey.

After conjuring a decent mattress and blankets, extracting the water from Yuuri’s near frozen clothes and applying a gentle charm that would help him warm slowly (so as not to shock his body too much) Viktor left him under the watchful eye of his familiar (who began casting his own fox spells as soon as Viktor’s back had turned to care for his human).

As Vicchan cared for Yuuri in his absence, Viktor called on his own familiar. Makkachin appeared moments after he silently called out to her, bounding from the shadows pf the trees to his side; with her help, he got the two leopard carcasses back to the cave, and cast some preserving enchantments on them, so that they didn’t spoil.

Then he stayed, to keep an eye on Yuuri for a day and a night. He knew he couldn’t disappear longer - he had another meeting with Cěsarĭ Nikolai, and not even Viktor was brave enough to blow that off like he might Yakov, but he made sure to cast the charms that would keep Yuuri warm, slowly help his immune system recover, block the natural elements from the cave, made his blankets as soft and comfortable as he could.

He also made sure to make some fish stew, after a quick trip to a nearby river, leaving it with preserving charms and containment runes around the glowing embers of the fire (to keep it going, and keep it from going out of control).

Luckily, Yuuri was already showing signs of improvement; Viktor suspected it might only be a few hours before he awoke, and by then, his familiar would be more than capable off seeing to his needs. Vicchan might still be recovering from his ordeal at the Gala, but he was just like Yuuri - he was no weakling. Viktor trusted their bond as he did his own with Makkachin.

And so, it was with great regret that he had to leave, allowing Makkachin to transport him back to the nearby air frigate base in Velká Morava. He had thought to leave a note, but decided it wouldn’t be necessary. Through another spell to monitor Yuuri, Viktor was relieved to know that he woke not long after he had left.

His nerves settled much easier when he visited Chris in St. Berna though. His friend (his only one besides Georgi and Mila at any rate) was blessed with what Viktor craved - Yuuri’s confidence and contact details.

Between their chats about Chris’s courageous decision to start a witchcraft apprenticeship, he got a letter from Yuuri. Viktor didn’t peek, but Chris did ask him his opinion.

‘ _I want to tell him to go for it, but Parthenope was so traumatic for him Viktor - Yuuri isn’t all that fond of people and being famous, he thinks himself as average. If I tell him that, he’d probably cave just to try and live up to my expectations_ ,’ his friend sighed. ‘ _I’m certain he could do it, even with just a year left before Meireki, but he’s not wrong about needing a mentor either; I don’t know what to tell him._ ’

It was the sign Viktor had been waiting for, looking at the tea leaves every night, wondering if he’d done the right thing by not staying, not waiting until Yuuri came around. Yuuri needed a mentor to return to compete again in the magical circuit.

Whether or not he returned, Viktor still didn’t know. He couldn’t answer that question, but he could offer Yuuri an option. Being the Imperial Advisor took up very little time (despite the little Carévič’s ideas about who his tutors should be), and he couldn’t deny that the chance to escape the competitive circuit himself was personally appealing.

Viktor’s nightmares weren’t as frequent as they used to be, but he would never forget his first gala, the destruction and fear would always be there. Every time he used his magic in the competitive circuit, he could feel it, the heat bearing down from the sky.

But he was never able to justify it. This wasn’t just a chance to help Yuuri, it was a chance to get away for a while. To take a break. His fingers went to the small plait that fell behind one ear; his hair had finally started to grow back a little. Maybe he could finally go looking for his grandparents, for that old house somewhere in Dominicus, if Yuuri did not want his help.

He hoped he did.

Viktor didn’t offer any advice except to go with his gut, and as soon as he got back to Dominicus, he packed a bag. With Makkachin nipping at his heels, he packed whatever he might need into a trunk, and left the capital of the empire for the tiny island in the Wa archipelago where Yuuri hailed from.

It was a long trip, first by air frigate, then another short inland journey, then a boat trip out to the island. The sound of the gulls made Viktor think of the birds on the Ny that would wake him in the morning as a child, and couldn’t help smiling as after a four hour boat ride the island came into sight.

He couldn’t help wondering as the burly, square faced and friendly man from the boat helped heave his trunk onto the dock, if Yuuri flew around the sea and white cliffs of the island, over the rice fields that he walked past through the town after being directed in accented, but competent common to ‘ _the onsen, up at the top of the island, right in the centre! It has the best views of the archipelago, and you really can’t miss it!_ ’.

From there, a small, but kind looking woman with brown hair and glasses, smiled back at him. ‘ _Oh, you’re like our Yuuri! I’ve seen you in that magazine he always hides from us, haven’t I?_ ’ She asked. Viktor nodded, and after a quick explanation of why he was randomly appearing in what he assumed was Yuuri’s family home, she led him outside.

‘ _His Pharmakeia is just down the road, a little further down the hill on the south side, above the beach!_ ’ She directed excitedly. ‘ _I hope he lets you help him!_ ’ She said encouragingly. ‘ _He’s out helping the village get ready for the Carévič Festival right now, but he should be back once the fireworks are set up! You’ll stay for it, won’t you?_ ’

Viktor wouldn't have missed it for the world, and he promised as much to Katsuki Hiroko with the utmost sincerity before following her directions.

Yuuri’s Pharmakeia was tucked away under the branches of thick-leaved trees, and utterly magical. Plants of every possible form grew from flower beds, vegetable patch, pots, hanging baskets, and over trellises and the walls. Vicchan, who had been dozing on the walkway outside some glass doors with a glimpse into a room full of cauldrons of every colour stirring themselves, perked up as Viktor found the central courtyard of Yuuri’s home.

He barked in greeting before coming to sniff his shoes and Makkachin. After a moment, he approved, and looked up with another bark.

“I’m here to see Yuuri - do you mind if I wait till he gets back to speak to him?” Viktor asked the familiar.

Vicchan gave him a long, steady look, before heading back up onto the walkway, opening the door to the cauldron room. It released a cacophony of scents that distracted Viktor until Vicchan’s bark regained his attention, and he understood the request to follow.

Using his own magic, Vicchan hung Viktor's cloak on the back of a chair in the potion room, and tucked his trunk away in the corner of Yuuri’s living area after leading him through to the private wing. Then he led him to a steaming pool, and Viktor’s eyes widened.

“Is that really alright?” He asked the poodle. Vicchan just stared at him, and with a little of the intuitive divination spells Yakov had painstakingly persuaded him to learn, Viktor got a sense of what the young fox-in-disguise was trying to tell him.

‘ _Thank you for looking after my friend. You helped him, so I will help you._ ’

And so, when Yuuri returned perhaps a half hour later, Viktor stood naked as the day he was born, and with a beaming smile, declared his intentions.

“Yuuri! I heard you were in need of a mentor for the Qualifiers from Chris, and came to offer my assistance!”

He didn’t know if he could help Yuuri, but whether he knew it or not, Yuuri had helped him. If Viktor could help Yuuri regain his rightful place in the competitive circuit in return, then not even Cěsarĭ Nikolai would be able to stop him.

* * *

_Handle me with care._

* * *

_Holy crap_. Guys, _what?_ **WHICH ONE OF YOU ANON-STARS SUBMITTED THIS TO FIC-REC-FRIDAY???????!** I was just looking for new fics and I honestly thought I was still asleep, I had to check the link, _what what what??????_

You don’t even know how much I lost it. I accidentally sent a bunch of spam and a screenshot to my _driving instructor_ , including the word _Fangasm_ , instead of my Mum. That's how much I freaked out ~~I mean, he already knows I’m off my rocker because I cried for fifteen minutes over roundabouts and their nonsensical madness incarnate, but still, I like to _pretend_ I’m good at adulting~~.

 _SOBS._  Whoever thought this fic deserves such love, **THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU LITERALLY MADE ME SMILE LIKE A MORON FOR HOURS, AND I LOVE YOU.** AND THE DAILY FIC REC TOO OMG,  ~~I'm losing my shit here.~~

AHEM. Right. Okay. I'm calm now ~~lies~~. To business.

Hitting you all right in the feels * _hands tissue boxes*_ but I HAVE NO REGRETS. This chapter is something of a bridge and a minor glimpse into Viktor’s story. Next chapter will go back to Yuuri, but there will be more Viktor POV as the story ~~runs away from me~~ progresses.

I'd also like to thank the reviewer naa who pointed out the horrendous timeline errors in the previous chapters! they completely slipped past me! so, before we go back to Yuuri's POV, I'll repeat the explanation here following a few edits since I answered the review; Yuuri turned 16 the year of his disastrous gala, with his interview taking place aged 15. He started training with Celestino 12 (literally days after his birthday), and earned his place at the Bolshoi Coven aged 11. His basic trials took place aged 10. Any other queries about the timeline, hit me up on my Tumblr! 

Sorry for the mix up with the dates this is what I get for being impatient and posting without betaing though. on another note, this story has changed from unrated to teen, simply because of Viktor and a few other themes which may show up depending on the route I go with the story. It may go up to M, again, depending on various factors. 

Mainly the fact that my Mum reads this  ~~(she's yoi trash too, its both surreal and amazing)~~  and I really don't want her to read anything M-Rated. That just.  _No_. I can't mentally handle that so for now, the rating is in limbo.

This chapter was written with 80s musical support from ‘[Handle With Care](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1o4s1KVJaVA)’ by _The Travelling Wilburys_. They’re one of my favourite bands, featuring the vocal talents of Roy Orbison, Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, Bob Dylan, and George Harrison. I’d encourage anyone to go listen to their albums. Only two were ever released, but they were wonderful!


	4. I Guess That's Why They Call it The Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor makes himself at home, and Yuuri perplexes over precisely that.

_Don't wish it away, don't look at it like it's forever._

* * *

Yuuri was often left speechless but the sight of Viktor Nikiforov standing naked in his onsen took the experience to completely new levels.

"Yuuri!" Viktor called out jubilantly, his words a clear crescendo despite the sudden numbness to Yuuri's hearing. “I heard you were in need of a mentor for the Qualifiers from Chris, and came to offer my assistance!”

Yuuri felt like he had been staring for an age, trying to process the image in front of him. By the time he blinked, Viktor had left the water, dried off, and was dressed in a robe that had Vicchan's slobber marks on it. It was unrealistic and utterly inconceivable for Yuuri to believe that Viktor could be even be on Hasetsu (let alone in his onsen), but there he was all the same.

Yuuri couldn't help his gobsmacked stare as he followed his fellow magical with his eyes, watching as the man wandered around the garden, peeked at Vicchan's shrine, exclaimed over his fish pond and vegetable patches. Then he had to rush in and keep him from getting too close to his simmering outdoor cauldrons as he gushed over their contents like a child over packets of sweet mixes, and poked his nose into the animal room and pens, where Yuuri's live or fresh ingredients came from.

"Your home is so nice Yuuri! It’s like something out of a storybook!" Viktor claimed loudly once he had finished wandering around the small bungalow. "Is it just you and Vicchan?"

Yuuri nodded. "It was better for me to have my own place once my potions started improving, I still have a room at my parents onsen though," he mumbled in response. Then finally, he managed to ask the question which had been lodged in his mind since he first met Viktor's eyes, since their first meeting back in the mountains even (which Yuuri still refused to think about - that was one epiphany that would have to wait).

"I can imagine - Chris moved in with Joseph for the same reasons I think," Viktor mused. "I wasn't sure what Waspia would be like - I've never been before - but I'm glad I came! It's so beautiful! Especially here! It's so peaceful! Will you show me the island Yuuri?"

Yuuri blinked, trying to work out which questions to ask and which words he was supposed to respond with. “Hasetsu isn’t really…. Uh… I suppose I can take you out, unless you want to walk. It isn't a big island, but it will definitely take most of the day if not two to walk around it, and its already late afternoon," Yuuri shrugged, still not entirely sure what he was agreeing to.

“Do you mean flying? Oh Yuuri! That would be amazing! I wish I'd studied witchcraft - I tried flight magic once but it's so draining!" Viktor sighed, flopping a hand distastefully. "Yakov tried to warn me I wouldn't be able to do it, but I probably wasn't listening to him."

"Like when he told you _not_ to open unlabelled potion bottles?" Yuuri asked dryly, then clapped his hands to his mouth in shock at his impertinence. "I'm so sorry! That was rude!" He blurted quickly.

Viktor laughed. "You're forgiven! You are right though, Lilia stressed that once when she was teaching me for my novice trials, I think, but I never could focus on potions,” he said, eyes still wandering around Yuuri’s Pharmakeia. “Maybe while I’m here you could teach me a little?” He asked.

Yuuri could only nod dumbly, not entirely grasping the question in his shock - he felt like he’s just been blasted by one of Phichit’s curses like back when they were training. Trying to get his thoughts together, he went to the glass doors and went to the holder on the wall where he kept his precious broomstick.

“I can show you around the island first, then I can show you the main village,” Yuuri said, looking nervously back to Viktor. “Then maybe tomorrow I can show you the rest of the island? You'd have to follow me around since we’re preparing the street party for Carévič Yuri’s birthday, but you'll get to see it,” he explained.

Viktor nodded. “I completely forgot about that! I’d be glad to help out if you need anything done; there were street parties in Dominicus when I was training, but I never went to any, too busy, too tired,” he explained, following Yuuri out of the house and into the courtyard. "Plus, they were so noisy and busy. Close up I'm not fond of crowds like that." He added, though the words were quiet, almost as if they were an afterthought Yuuri wasn't completely intended to hear.

“This is the first since I’ve been back home I’ve been to one as well,” Yuuri nodded - his own training had hardly made time for entertainment like setting up bandstands or bunting. There had always been one for Cěsarĭ Nikolai’s coronation and birthday, but now there was an extra excuse to have a celebration, and if there was one thing his hometown definitely did well, it was throw a party. “It’ll be nice to be part of it again,” he couldn’t help smiling, staring at the streamlined handle of the broomstick, the familiar runes carved into the handle.

It was grounding and familiar, and by concentrating on it the magic would blend it with the wind, allow him and his passenger to glide through the air and temporarily defy the natural world. The magic by itself wasn’t hard, but it was demanding, hence why only premier witches were awarded the magical knowledge necessary for the spells. Only someone who had been studying magic for that long (or in such earnest like Yuuri had), would be able to handle the natural energies needed to employ the weightlessness spells and use the worlds natural magnetisms and forces, both of which would allow them to fly.

In the air, Yuuri felt at home, or rather, he felt confident; flying was the pinnacle of a Witch’s career for many; he might not be so sure about his other schools but with witchcraft, he knew he was good. Or at least, he did when he was by himself, or with anyone familiar. With Viktor Nikiforov clinging to his back, he was having trouble disassociating himself from the urge to run a mile.

“Hold on,” he said, to Viktor, deliberately blanking his mind as Viktor clamped his arms around his waist - they physical contact really drove him the fact that this was not in fact, a hallucination, and that yes, he really was about to fly off with the Imperial Magical Advisor clinging to his back. Again. Yuuri very quickly decided he didn’t dare think about the apparent reality of his last Viktor-related hallucination.

Focusing on the task at hand - how could he deny Viktor anything after he’d inspired him so much, especially when that thing he wanted was the sight of the island home Yuuri loved so much? - Yuuri kicked off from the ground, pushing up through the air at a steady pace until they were well above the rooftops, setting off on a small circular of the island, not unlike his previous trips that day.

From Yuuri’s Pharmakeia, they headed south, past the inlets known as the east and south squeezes to the end of the island, past the small harbour where Viktor’s ferry would have docked. Off in the distance over the water, they could see it heading back to the mainland.

Passing the small cluster of official buildings and houses, they came out onto some arable land, getting closer and closer to a large bow lake that glinted town in the evening sunlight.

“How big is Hasetsu?” Viktor asked curiously over the wind. It whipped around their faces unseen but sharp and loud, its whistling tunes blocking the sound of Viktor’s voice from Yuuri’s ears until he was high enough to use some of the air currents, and was able to slow down again.

“About twenty leagues long?” Yuuri guessed. “Like I said, you can walk around it if you make it a day or camping trip since we don’t have much in transport here, but there’s no time right now.”

The ground flew below them, allowing Viktor to see the curve of the island as they headed along the southern coast. As they passed the lake Yuuri pointed it out; in its hook were a group of abbot seven or eight hillocks covered in lashings wildflowers and cultivated plants with meticulous care exclaimed in their growth and colour. “That’s where we start our festival of the ancestors,” he explained. “The burial tombs are there,” he added, pointing to the obvious piles decorated with lashings of wildflowers. “The little mounds in the curve of the ox-bow.”

“I see them - are they family ones? Back in Piter, most people are cremated, or we sink river barges,” Viktor mused, his eyes following everything Yuuri pointed out; his hair flipped madly across his eyes as the currents picked up. “Do you do anything else special here? Different from the rest of Waspia?”

Yuuri nodded - Hasetsu was often included in the Waspian archipelago due to its proximity, but it was still largely separate, and had its own way of doing things; Yuuri wondered if Viktor had looked up his home island before arriving - the tone of his question was a bit more specific than if he hadn’t.

“There’s a blessing ceremony, and then we release river lanterns with incense, one for every ancestor, then we follow them from here past the other burial sites to the main one at Lake Ōmura for the extinguishing ceremony,” he added, remembering one years ago for his grandparents. “We have fireworks too, all along the route until they reach the lake, as well on the coast,” Yuuri explained, curving around and following the land. “If you look back behind us, at the back my parents onsen and my Pharmakeia is Middeniht Bēam, but most people don’t go there because of all the Yōkai,” He explained.

“Middeniht Bēam?” Viktor called out, his eyes switching from the burial grounds ahead to the sprawl of trees below them. It went on for a while, and as they skimmed the trees, Yuuri could help but smile as they passed the spot where he’d envisioned his familiar so many years before.

“Well, it’s very dark if you don’t go at the right time of day, and some of the Yōkai there are dangerous, so that’s what the villagers call it; it means the midnight forest in common, but as I said, the spirits keep the villagers away from everything but the fringes,” Yuuri sighed - he wished more of the islanders would be brave enough to near it, but so far only his family and the others that lived on its edges were brave enough to go in deeper. “The terrain gets higher too, since it’s at the base of the mountain. It’s nice though - lots of colours, plants, animals, and you’d be perfectly safe as long as you don’t annoy the spirits.”

“Hmm. I’d rather not go alone - local people might know better how to avoid that than me. I know plenty about Ruthenia’s spirits, but I’d better not risk Hasetsu’s until I know your island better!” He said cheerfully. “You must go there quite often, you sound fond of it.”

“I used to sneak out there a lot before my magic started showing; its where I found Vicchan originally, and I get a lot of potions ingredients there. The Susuwatari are always friendly," he nodded.

"Zu…? Zu-su-watter-ee?" Viktor blinked his lips a mouthful around the foreign word. "I don't know that word, I don't remember it from my novice runic scripts,” he said, confused. “Which script is that? Is it an old one?”

" _Susuwatari_ , and you probably wouldn’t have studied it - that’s the local word,” Yuuri corrected. “The older villagers call them Hrūmdeofol too. In Common they're called…” he paused, trying to think of the word. “…Soot Sprites? Coal Faeries? Uh…I think they're called _Prahaicê_ in Pityerian?” Yuuri guessed, mangling the word no doubt. He hadn’t studied Viktor’s native script a very great deal, but Minako had introduced him to it after he’d seen Viktor at the gala in Piter.

"Ah, yes, I do know those! They were rare where I was born, but my grandmother always said they were lucky," Viktor grinned, then paused, his head wiping towards him in astonishment. “Yuuri! You speak Pityerian? That’s amazing! The last person I met who could speak it was Tatiana, and she _was_ Pityerian,” He gasped. “I never thought I’d hear it again!”

Tatiana… _Nikiforova?_ As in, the former _Cěsarévna_ , Tatiana Nikiforova? Yuuri did his very best not to think about the implications of that single name; he’d almost forgotten just how important Viktor was, but it was a stark reminder, and it only added to his confusion. Viktor was on first name terms with Carévič Yuri’s _mother_.

Viktor was the Imperial Magic Advisor to the ruling family; it was one of the most enviable, coveted positions amongst solstice-born. The opportunity to advise and support the last try-blooded magical line in the world wasn’t something someone just dropped out of the blue! Viktor had said he was here to train Yuuri, but how could that possibly be true? Why on earth would Viktor ever come here? Surely he had better things to do, like teaching the Carévič?

“It’s just a few words - the script is very hard to get guidebooks for, since it’s not widely spoken, kind of like Haseian” Yuuri flushed, quickly looking around as they came out over the middle of the forest, turning north and heading along the eastern coast until they came across a familiar, tall, white boarded building. “The friends I made the fertility potion for live there,” he said. “Yuuko’s parents own the tide mill, and she and her husband work at the docks in the village centre before it begins to run.”

“Not a windmill?” Viktor asked. Yuuri shook his head.

“The pool beside the building collects the water at high tide, then when the tide goes out, that makes the waterwheel turn as the water goes back to the sea," he said pointing to the large, artificial pool next to the mill. "There used to be a windmill, but the storms we get damaged it every year and it was too hard back then for the villagers to keep repairing the sails, so about two hundred years ago, the Nishigori Clan built the tide mill instead," he explained.

Viktor nodded, and his gaze turned to the expanse of the island stretching westward. "Whereabouts is the magical centre?" He asked. "My guidebook said it was one of the historical points of the island!"

Viktor had a guidebook? On Hasetsu? Yuuri shook his head to continue along the northern edge of the island towards the peninsula. He also did his best to blot out the strange anecdotes that fell from his companion’s lips, trying to concentrate lest they fall out of the sky. "We'll fly past it once we go further north on the eastern edge of the island," Yuuri said, coasting past the tide mill Yuuko and Takeshi called home.

Before they could get to the north of the island however, they had to pass the main village itself. It spawned below on the lower coastline, building around the harbour where most of the fisherman kept their boats, and the goods ships also landed. One of them had the marking of the postage vessels, and Yuuri perked at the sight.

"Would you like to stop at the docks?" He asked. "Not for long, but I've just seen the supply boat, and there's a package I'm expecting," he added, hoping that didn't seem to rude.

"That sounds interesting - I didn't get a good look when I arrived, I was too busy trying to find you. Or at the least, someone else who understood who I was looking for,” Viktor said. “Though I think I came in on the ferry at the side below your home.”

“This is the fishing quay, we don’t get any passenger ferry on this side,” Yuuri explained as they reached the largest of the island’s harbours.

Swooping down, Yuuri waiting till Viktor had clambered off before dismounting with a little more elegance, and using a strap to clip his broomstick on his back, attaching the leather to a clip across one shoulder. The few people out on the Main Street didn’t raise an eyebrow at the sight as much as they did wave at Yuuri and blink in mild confusion at his companion.

“Do you want to have a look around? I won’t be long. If you’re hungry, the squid skewers are good,” he said, wondering what on earth else to say, and blathering for the sake of avoiding awkward silence.

“Of course! I’ll be fine - though I did notice not many people here speak Common, do they?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri made a face. Viktor was hardly wrong about the language-fluency on the island. The language spoken by the elder villagers was a prime example of just how cut off from Waspia and the Ruthenian Empire his home really was. Yuuri remembered that his spell crafting had always been praised for his use of what in common was simply a country dialect, but it wasn’t quite that simple.

The spells that had given him some advantages weren’t in a Waspian dialect, but Haseian. It was a language all of its own, though it had enough similarities that the archipelago inhabitants understood its most basic patterns, and a few words were similar. They were far from the same language though, and like their unique words, Hasetsu managed itself in a manner that wasn’t set to the rules of the island string to the west.

“Not really, since we're so far away from the empire mainland. It’s mostly the people who work at the harbour or people like my parents who get a lot of tourists. People come for the hot springs so they can speak a little, but everyone else either speaks a little Waspian and Haseian, or just Haseian, but I'm sure it will be fine! I can always wait?”

Viktor laughed and held up a hand. “I’m sure I’ll survive! I'm on an adventure, but I understand that you have things to be done Yuuri. I'm a grown man, how hard can it be? If need be, I can always use hand gestures - it’s how I got by in Dominicus until I finally picked up Common!” He beamed confidently, swishing his cloak over his shoulder with a flourish.

Yuuri but his lip, but the confident flick of his fringe off his face settled his nerves; Viktor was right. Yuuri had managed to muddle through in common while he was training with Celestino-sensei. Viktor would be fine. With less guilt about leaving the man to his own devices, Yuuri turned and headed towards the harbourmaster's office.

It was built into an old fishing boat that he’d pulled up onto the beach after a bad storm had destroyed the hull. Taki-san had loved it too much to see it rot or burn, and so he’d turned it into a new office. He smiled and waved upon sight of Yuuri, promising to be quick as he disappeared into the storage in the back of the boat.

As he searched, Yuuri peeked out of the cabin window back out to the docks. He could see Viktor talking to Shira, the lady who owned the squid shop and ran the stall, and the sight was just as nonsensical as the sight of Viktor in his onsen. Yet again, Yuuri ran Viktor’s word through his mind - ‘ _I heard you were in need of a mentor for the Qualifiers from Chris, and came to offer my assistance!_ ’ - but it was still so hard to believe. What possible reason could Viktor have to train him? He gained nothing from it.

Viktor was a competitor. All solstice born received stipends from the IMSA whilst they competed to offset expenses until they began working for the public, and all mentors were given similar treatment. It wasn’t profitable unless you had six or seven students like Celestino, Joseph or Viktor’s coach, Yakov. Minako hadn’t made any money from coaching him, though she’d never had to worry about her living expenses either.

Yuuri was no longer competing, but the drop in the money he’d been given whilst apprenticing with Celestino was hardly noticeable now that he had his Pharmakeia. Aside from the villagers, he had a steady stream of private clients that made up for it. Financially speaking, he was better of working than competing.

Viktor had never started in the public domain though. Yes, he had spells that were available for purchase - though none that Yuuri had ever thought himself capable of performing - but they were only available to solstice born, and the market was extremely small. Perhaps broaching around two hundred and fifty people in a generation across the world, give or take, and that was a number not including the Imperial family. Viktor had no reason to coach him at all! Certainly not financially at any rate, and Yuuri was struggling to reason as to why he would be here.

Taki-san came back jolting him out of his observation and private ponderings. After paying the small pick-up fee, he hoisted the package up under an arm, and fished several paper packets from the pocket of his cloak. “These are the weightlessness charms you asked for last week,” he said, offering them to the old man. “You just need to sprinkle a little like usual, it should last for about a month, but if you need more just let me know Taki-san.”

“Ahhh! Yuuri-drȳmann, you’re a treasure! These will be perfect, and save my back some trouble!” the old man asked toothily. “Who’s that foreigner that’s talking to Shira-chan? I saw you fly in with him, is he another solstice born like you?”

Yuuri blinked and nodded. “That’s…” Yuuri paused, having to brace himself for the reply on his tongue - it refused to form the words right away. “…Viktor Nikiforov. The imperial advisor?”

Taki-san’s wrinkled eyes widened “What’s he here for? Is it something for the festival?” He asked, watching with curious eyes from the doorway as Viktor and Shira began gesticulating.

Yuuri laughed and shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I think he’ll enjoy it. I think he’s planning on staying that long,” he guessed. “Thank you for the help, but I need to get back soon,” he apologised.

“No problem, take care Yuuri!”

Yuuri nodded his head respectfully to the old harbour master, then hurried back to the waterfront where Viktor was talking - or trying to talk to - an elderly woman only slightly younger than Taki. They saw him approach and he could see both their faces lighting up in relief.

“Yuuri-drȳmann! I was about to call over!” Shira-san said, pointing to Viktor. “Can you translate for your friend? I can’t take that, and he doesn’t speak Waspian at all!” she huffed, anxious.

“Viktor, can I see your money?” Yuuri asked, looking to the sorcerer.

“I don’t understand what the problem is? They’re drachmas,” Viktor said, sounding baffled as he held out a small collection of round coins. “They were fine in Meireki.”

“Viktor it’s a four-hour boat ride to Meireki from here,” Yuuri sighed. “We don’t use drachmas, there's nowhere to exchange them. Just Genmei,” he explained, wondering how many times Viktor’s eyes would widen before they burst. He seemed constantly surprised.

“Oh! I didn’t realise - they didn’t mention anything about that at the ferry terminal!” Viktor grumbled, somehow still excited by the fact he was essentially penniless. “How do I apologise? I didn’t get any money changed! I completely forgot and since they accepted it in Meireki I thought they would be alright!”

“He didn’t change them, did he?” Shira asked, no doubt recognising Viktor’s shock and horror.

“He didn’t realise it was just Genmei out here,” Yuuri nodded. “What was he going to buy?” He asked. After handing over the coins, she gave Viktor a more curious glance.

“Is he that one from the magic circular Yuuko-chan buys?” She asked. “Is he here to work on something with you?”

“He is, but he’s just visiting,” Yuuri said, watching as she handed Viktor a couple of the glaze soaked quid skewers.

“I have some of the baby ones from this morning’s catch if you want them, they’re too small for me, and I’ve kept them in some water,” Shira said. “You like them fresh, don’t you? For all your whizz-bangs,” she grinned. Yuuri flushed.

“Potions,” he insisted. “And if you don’t want them they’ll be handy, do you have a container?” He asked.

Viktor stood, watching their exchange between mouthfuls of his squid, seemingly lost, but watchful. He was paying attention to the quick, sharp paced words as Shira handed Yuuri a closed bucket of water, with several shapes moving inside. After a few words of goodbye, Yuuri cast a quick charm to lighten the bucket, and unfastened his broomstick, allowing it to hover as he attached the container to the handle.

"What did she say? Was she angry? You looked flustered - I haven't cause any problems, have I?" Viktor asked.

"No, but you'll have to mail to the exchange office in Meireki and ask for some Genmei. Shira-san just like teasing me - she worked in the school for a while and before I started training with Minako, I kept using magic by accident. We used to call them whiz-bangs," Yuuri explained.

"Ah, did you have a lot of accidents before you started training?" Viktor asked, following onto the broomstick after Yuuri. “I remember Mila accidentally turned Georgi into a mouse once, and when she came to Yakov and Lilia, she had already blown up her father’s pottery shed.”

"I turned the floorboards blue at the onsen, and while I was still at school I accidentally turned the milk we got at break times into something that made everyone sparkle for about three days," he admitted as they kicked off up into the air. After a moment, he felt brave enough to turn the same question back to Viktor. "What were yours like?" He asked curiously. Viktor's family life and history was something of a mystery, given how infrequently he answered personal questions in his interviews.

"I'm not sure, I didn't really have many bouts of magic before I started using it; I did freeze a river, and made a forcefield once, but I more or less just started with small spells when I found out I had magic, before I met Yakov,” Viktor laughed. “If I needed to do something I just found a way for magic to help me do it, so I don’t think it counts.”

Yuuri wondered if that was entirely the truth; it sounded like Viktor was still keeping things private, which he couldn’t blame him for. He didn’t owe Yuuri and explanations, and just that small fragment was already more than anything he’d learned in the bulletin or other circulars. He didn’t push for a further explanation - he didn’t really need one - and they soared higher through the trees, towards the pentagram point on one edge of the northern coast.

Pointing it out, Yuuri couldn’t help smiling at the way Viktor’s eyes lit up with excited understanding the way only a solstice-born would at the sight of the restricted, historical magical area.

“I can’t believe you live so close to a five-point zone Yuuri! I’ve only seen the Central one in Piter and Cardinal Zone in the imperial city, and you can’t just walk up to those! Don’t you get a lot of visitors to it? Surely other solstice born come to see it?” He asked, watching as they flew over the perfect ritual circle of wildflowers below; they were almost glowing in the evening sunset as their petals and leaves took strength from roots entombed in the magical symbols carved into the ground aeons before.

“Not really, I think the travelling distance puts them off – not everyone can fly after all. I think most of the premiers from the Bolshoi and the other covens have seen it though, I know Mistress Baranovskaya has, and most of the solstice born from Meireki likely visited at some point,” he guessed. “I’d guess Master Feltsman has seen it too, but it’s a witchcraft circle; it’s not a very school popular nowadays, so we don’t get much interest in it – I haven’t heard of any new initiates except for Chris, but he’s wanted to apprentice in it for years.”

“It’s not as unpopular as you think Yuuri! Our young Carévič wanted me to teach him, but I was obviously completely unsuited to the task - he called me useless!” Viktor laughed. “Lilia was too busy to teach him. She said that the branch Meireki coven has been busy lately last time we spoke!”

Yuuri blinked, slightly curious but knowing better than to ask - just because he was a Premiere didn’t mean he had any business being nosy. Instead he focused on their path north west, around the hook of the island where the northern islanders managed their arable crops, animals and rice fields.

Yuuri pointed out Lake Ōmura, and the burial grounds inside it as they circled, the hundreds of stacks that rose from the sea on the northern edge, before following back west, coming to the opposite side of Middeniht Bēam. Viktor perked up at the sight of the sprawling forest and as they flew over the treetops, Yuuri pointed to the few clearings. “The furthest one to the left is the clearing where I met Vicchan,” he said. “And the one closest to us is the tomb of Ryûzôji no Daisuke,” he added.

“Can we see it?” Viktor asked, amazement and excitement coming into his eyes. “I can’t believe it’s in the middle of a forest - Lilia never told me that. Though I guess if I’d stuck with Witchcraft longer I might have learned a bit more - another reason for you to teach me Yuuri!”

Yuuri ignored the last comment. “We can, but I’ll have to take you another time,” he said. “The Yōkai protect the tomb and its obviously still live, its why the forest is so overrun with them, so we’d have to be cautious. Besides, its sunset.”

Indeed, as they passed the familiar sight of his family home (the swirling heated springs smoking with warmth below) and swooped back down into the courtyard of the Pharmakeia, the sun was almost completely below the horizon, and only a few strands of pink and orange sunlight stained the encroaching night-time.

It was the end of the day, and Yuuri had absolutely no idea how the next one was going to start. He cobbled together a futon that he used if Mari or his parents slept overnight for, and there was some soup left over that they could eat for dinner, but Yuuri felt numb to the mundane night-time tasks.

Viktor’s chatter filled the room and VIcchan seemed very pleased with himself as he followed their guest around, supervising him as he further explored the building. It was surreal; Viktor Nikiforov was in his home, his brewery, talking, asking questions, poking things curiously. He even used some of his own magic to help Yuuri refuel some special heating crystals he used beneath his cauldrons (for the ones which required better temperature control).

And yet this was the first time this had happened. Through the interaction that first night, Yuuri found it harder and harder to pretend he hadn’t met Viktor in the Mountains of Říp. Yet that only begged yet more questions; why had Viktor been there at all? Why had he helped him? And more so, why had he come here again?

Yuuri couldn’t believe it was to train him. He wasn’t a competitor - he wasn’t cut out for it in the same way Viktor was, born for competition, living and breathing it. He was just so stubborn that losing at anything battered his shy pride. The m ore he thought about it the more he couldn’t believe that Viktor had any reason to be here.

But, as he curled up on the futon that first night, after giving Viktor the bed, he couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up. This was really happening, he wasn’t making it up; Viktor was here, in his home. He obviously wanted to see the island - he understood its magical nature in a way the villagers didn’t, so of course he would seek out the only Solstice Born on the island as a companion.

That had to be it; it was a logical explanation, Yuuri decided. Viktor would see that he wouldn’t be able to mentor him once he understood Yuuri’s decision to stay out of competitions, but he might be willing to teach a few spells in exchange for the stay, however long it was.

He hadn’t indicated how long he would be here, so Yuuri would just have to enjoy having his company for the duration of his trip. It was the best way.

The thought of that alone made finding sleep that night a dream of its own making.

* * *

_Between you and me, I could honestly say  
that things can only get better._

* * *

The next morning, Yuuri rose earlier than usual thanks to a hurried knock at the service window that set off an emergency spell.

When he had designed the magic system, Yuuri had wanted to be available for islanders in times of emergency, so had designed a spell that would alert him to the different needs based on a series of knock painted onto a sign beside the service window.

Three knocks were for a general customer, or someone collecting a spell, and three knocks then two was for a specialist order; both of these were set to alert him during the day only. The final knock was two, two, and two, and this knock also alerted him if he was sleeping. It was for emergencies only, and was very rarely used.

Getting to his feet, he had quickly gone to the window, and found Fukoshida-san’s wife outside, tears on her wrinkled face and an exhausted horse munching on the grass; immediately, his stomach and heart sunk. He grabbed his medicine kit and broomstick and together they flew out to the farm where Yuuri had found the Susuwatari all those years ago. He hardly paused to leave a note for Viktor.

Fukoshida Hiroshi was an old man - he was nearly ninety-three now, and had been having some bad health problems this year. The doctors had advised them to ask for his help in making him more comfortable, and Yuuri has done his best, but sometimes not even magic could cure old age or the severest of illnesses.

The old man grinned wearily at him as Terumi-san (his wife) showed Yuuri inside, and the doctor greeted him too. Talking to the man to work out what kind of spell or potion would be best, Yuuri decided on a heavily altered sleeping draught. Hiroshi was determined to be there for his children, who were from their own farm at the north end of the island, but the pain was making his effort difficult.

The potion would only help him doze, relax, make it that bit easier and hopefully slow the worsening spasms; Yuuri made sure to pay attention to the information from the doctor as he worked - while he had studied some illnesses and learned how to make potions to ease symptoms, he still wasn't medically trained, and always preferred to have his clients get a doctor's opinion before resorting to magic.

Hiroshi was lucky; he managed to stay for his children arriving and say his goodbyes before his illness - something he'd caught in the battlefields in Albion fifty years before - and old injuries finally won over. Yuuri stayed to help, casting some charms that would preserve and clean his body before the undertakers arrived, and something to help settle the nerves and worries of his wife and children. Magic didn't work miracles, but it could make some things easier, and Yuuri soon headed home.

He knew there would be spells required for the funeral, he'd already made some for two previous ones after his disastrous gala, so getting a head start was a good plan. By the time he got home, the sun was starting to rise, and he quickly set about checking on his cauldrons and other spells.

He was preparing some herbal mixtures after the expected call from the undertakers when Viktor awoke; he seemed bright and cheerful, but after asking him three times if he wanted a cup of tea, Yuuri quickly realised that his idol was somewhat off-kilter in the mornings.

“How long have you been up Yuuri? You look wide awake,” Viktor yawned, after dressing and stumbling back onto the brewery.

“One of my clients died this morning; I went over to help out and I have some charms to make for the undertakers,” Yuuri explained. “I’m sorry, I’d offer breakfast but I don’t really eat much in the mornings so I don’t have much to offer. Except rice. I keep it in here for snacks,” he explained, pointing to a large bag hooked up against one of the tables.

It had also been very good for energy when he kept in shape for competition. After all the years with Celestino, he and Phichit had devoured bowls of the stuff to keep their stamina up, feed their internal magic supplies. Yuuri still hadn’t broken the habit - it was useful when he was brewing long potions and couldn’t leave the room for long periods.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love some. If I don’t eat I inadvertently use my magic instead, and it makes Yakov very angry,” Viktor said. “I’m sorry about your client. Was it someone close? An islander?” He asked curiously, taking a seat at one of the tables.

Yuuri nodded. “He and his family own the goat farm north of my parents’ Onsen,” he explained, absently stirring some of the rice into a cauldron set over a tabletop burner. “When I was little, and had started showing my magic, I found a family of Soot Sprites in a well that had been blocked for a long time there. The Fukoshida Clan was always very supportive, and they were my first clients ever since I gained my minimum potions qualifications. They were the ones aside from my friends and family who encouraged me to build this place,” he gestured to the building they were seated in as he poured some spices into a small cauldron and set it to boil.

“I’m very sorry,” Viktor said sincerely, watching as Yuuri set the kettle onto the tabletop burner beside the cauldron. “What is it that you’re doing? The spells you are making?” He asked, carefully, seeming unsure how to broach the subject. “If I can help at all…”

“There’s no need,” Yuuri smiled. “Though I appreciate the offer. I’m just making some warding spells for the burial cairn and weightlessness spells, they just help make the funeral easier - I’ve been expecting it but not this soon, so I don’t have everything ready,” he explained. “You can help chop some of the ingredients if you want? For the warding charms?” He suggested.

Viktor brightened, and nodded. Between cooking the rice and making some tea, they were soon busy, and Yuuri forgot his worries and curiosity to Viktor’s presence. Or rather, he put the desire to know more aside; right now, his concerns were for helping the Fukoshida family, as well as the preparations for the festival.

With Viktor chopping the ingredients for him, Yuuri had the spells he needed for the undertakers brewing within a couple of hours. They would take another day or so to finish, but he knew that the ceremony wouldn’t be till after the festival, and so once they were simmering, he and Viktor headed out to the first place on his list for helping get ready for the imperial celebrations.

They first stop was the mill they had flown over the day before. Swooping down, Yuuri wondered if it had been a good idea not to tell Yuuko about the visitor beforehand, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew there had been no time.

Takeshi was around by the water wheel, dredging out some of the debris that had accumulated overnight (including a pigeon that had got stuck in the teeth and fared rather badly) with the tide, and Yuuri waved over to him as Viktor cast his eyes everywhere, absorbing the new sights.

“Morning Takeshi - do you have the flour bags that need to be taken down to the arches?” Yuuri asked, hurrying over the jetty infant of the house towards him. Not seeing Yuuko out and about, he wondered if she wasn’t feeling well - she normally rose only slightly less early than Yuuri did. “Where’s Yuuko? I have a visitor she’ll want to meet,” he asked.

“They’re out in the storage shed,” Takeshi said his eyes narrowing on Viktor (who was currently gazing with his back to them at the sea and the gulls). “She’s still inside. We heard about Fukoshida-san from Izuki when he came to pick up the east squeeze delivery this morning, and she took it hard…” his voice trailed off as Viktor turned around and his eyes widened. “…Yuuri, your visitor is Viktor Nikiforov…” he said, sounding as confused as Yuuri felt.

“Apparently so,” Yuuri sighed. “I was hoping you’d tell me it was someone else - now I know only seventy-five percent sure I'm not hallucinating,” he mumbled.

“What’s he doing here?” Takeshi asked.

“I have no idea.”

Viktor, oblivious to their confusion, quickly headed over and waved cheerfully at Takeshi. “Hi! I’m Viktor! Are you one of Yuuri’s friends? It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He beamed, holding out his hand. Takeshi still had a dazed look on his face as he shook it.

“L-Likewise,” he said in stilted common. “Nishigori Takeshi. What brings you all the way out here? Is it some magic project? Yuuri never said anything.”

Viktor clapped a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder enthusiastically. “I heard from a friend that Yuuri needed some help getting back into competitive form, and wanted to offer my services!”

Takeshi stared at Yuuri, perhaps even more incredulous. Yuuri wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Why was Viktor insisting that he was going to train him for the Gala?

“Yuuri, I thought you weren’t going to compete this year?” Takeshi asked. “When did you change your mind? The qualifiers are soon, aren’t they? You’re really cutting it close!”

“We’ll be fine! It’s not as if we’re starting from the beginning! Yuuri’s magic is already at the gala level! I’m just here to direct and advise! I already have a plan for the qualifiers!” Viktor grinned, winking at Takeshi before Yuuri could get a word in edgeways; he gave his friend the most hopeless, imploring gaze for help he could, but Takeshi was already caught up in Viktor’s stormy energy.

“If you say so? Yuuko’s probably in the kitchen if you want to see her Yuuri, I can show Viktor around,” he offered nervously.

“I’ll go see her!” Yuuri blurted, launching himself from Viktor’s arm towards the door of the mill. The wooden boards creaked and he made his way through to the living quarters built onto the side of the building. Passing the bags of flour that had been prepared and were awaiting storage, he slipped through a side door and found his friend straight away.

She was seated at her kitchen table, face hurried in the arms crossed on it. “Yuuko,” he called out gently. Yuuko looked up, and gave him a weary smile; her eyes were red and watery and a little bloodshot.

“I’m being silly, we all knew he was reaching his time - he never recovered from his war service,” she sighed as Yuuri sat down on the chair beside her. “I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she sniffed, flopping into her friend’s arms. “I didn’t think it would upset me so much, but I’ve been crying all morning Yuuri, I can’t focus on anything.”

Yuuri tightened them around her without complaint. Yuuko had spent several years helping the Fukoshida Clan on their farm before starting to help with the docks and mill work with her own family and Takeshi. She had every right to be upset by the news.

“I know,” Yuuri sighed. “I’ll miss him too Yuuko. I think he was the only person who wasn’t scared when we wanted to get people to pet the Susuwatari.”

“He used to draw moustaches on his upper lip with the dust after he scratched them,” Yuuko chuckled. “I guess everyone is going to miss him. You were out there this morning?” she asked and Yuuri nodded.

“To help the doctor, and the undertakers, when they arrived. It wasn’t so bad, and all their children from the north end made it in time. He was happy, and comfortable. I suppose that’s as good as anyone can ask for,” Yuuri said, wondering if now was a good time to tell Yuuko about Viktor. He hated seeing her like this - it was so far from her usual cheer, and if it distracted her maybe it would help. “It’s been one shock after another since yesterday,” he ventured. “Take a guess as to who showed up on my doorstep.”

Yuuko sat up, an exhausted eyebrow raised. “Your mother? With food? You’re probably living off rice again, and Mari-nee-chan snitched on you.”

“Not exactly, though I should go see everyone now that you mention it,” Yuuri mused. “I got home last night, and Viktor Nikiforov was sitting in my onsen. Vicchan let him in.”

Yuuko blinked. “Wait, what?” She asked, sitting up a little straighter. Yuuri smiled, glad that at least he could take her mind off her grief with the topic.

“Viktor Nikiforov. Takeshi is showing him around outside right now. He claims he’s here to help me train for the Gala, after the festival,” he added, gesturing to the window, where two head of silver and black hair could be seen out on the small dock. “He’s very keen to help out with that too."

Yuuko stared at him, then got up and went to the window; after a moment, she stared back at Yuuri. “Viktor Nikiforov, the imperial magical advisor? But… It's Carévič Yuri's birthday soon! He isn't going to the official celebration in the imperial city like the others?" She asked. "If he's here to take you on as an apprentice, shouldn't it be after that?"

It was Yuri's turn to be surprised; Yuuko didn't even question Viktor's reason for being here? Besides the fact he was blowing off one of the biggest events of the year? Even solstice born needed special permission to enter the Imperial City. Yuuri had been stunned enough with his own invitation, but had thankfully been able to decline early and with a valid reason - Fukushima-san's failing health. He had completely forgotten about it, and was frankly stunned that Viktor could even think of abandoning the official celebration.

Yuuko was equally shocked but not for the same reasons; her eyes had a spark in them again, the excited gleam she wore whenever Yuri's magical career prospects had news, and she didn't seem shocked that Viktor was here to see him at all.

"I don't know; I haven't asked... I find I hard to believe he's even here at all, let alone that I've apparently met him before," he sighed.

At Yuuko's perplexed face, he continued to explain the real things that happened during his expedition to the mountains. Yuuko listened intently, her expression going from excited to stunned, then thoughtful as he stumbled through the story of his supposed hallucinations.

"...I just don't understand why he's here Yuuko," he stressed. "What on earth would bring him all the way out here?"

"He wants to work with you, so you said," Yuuko reminded. "It's cutting it close, but you still have a couple of years to get back to competing if you start now Yuuri, especially with the best solstice born in the world behind you, well, second besides you," she winked. Yuuri still wasn't convinced and seeing so, she sighed. "Yuuri, I can't make you believe that he wants to be here for you but you should talk to him about it, before you both make any assumptions."

Yuuri sighed, feeling his own turn to flip his head on the table. "You're right, I just... don't know how to bring it up. Maybe I should wait until after festival?"

If anything, the time to prepare would also give him time to think, and maybe distract Viktor from any more talk about the Gala and competing.

"Don't leave it too late Yuuri, and remember, you're allowed to want this," she grinned. "You've looked up to him since you saw him thrash Cao Bin in Piter, and now Viktor wants to train you off his own accord! Even if you don't compete I know you'd learn so much from him, and I know you want to, so don't be scared of that feeling."

Yuuri nearly reared up with the quiet, kind words of encouragement, and leaned over for one last embrace, giving his friend an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "Thank you Yuuko," he said.

She always knew how to help direct his thoughts, and while she did sometimes push, Yuuri knew he'd be lost without her support. "How have you been feeling since you took the potion?" He asked, getting to his feet when he saw Yuuko staring out of the window at Viktor again.

Following him outside she blushed a little. "We've... been more active than usual," she confessed. "But I'm not sure yet. You said I would know quickly, but I've not noticed anything. Should I have?" She asked anxiously, pausing before the door.

"No, I just wanted to ask. Like I said, it might be a few months if it works, but you'll know. The spell works a bit longer me a normal pregnancy test, remember?"

Yuuko relaxed and nodded. "I know, I just, I'm scared we might do something wrong or I might mess up somehow and-"

"You really want to be a mother?" Yuuri asked gently. Yuuko nodded again. "Then you will be, even if the potion doesn't work. I know it won't stop you," he assured her.

Opening the door and walking out onto the jetty, they linked their arms together to go meet the enthusiastic sorcerer and Takeshi, worries temporarily at bay by the reassurance of their friend.

* * *

_And while I'm away, dust out the demons inside; it won't be long before  
you and me run to the place in our hearts where we hide._

* * *

 

 **MEIREKI TIMES EMERGENCY EDITION**  
Saturday 27th February 7769-PD

 _Fighting in Albion takes a turn for the worse as Alyaunte Air Canoes dominate in Gleann Mòr,_ by Fujisaki Hisoka.

 

> War efforts in the north-eastern district of the Ruthenian empire took a turn for the worst late last night when air troops from Alyaunte overpowered the IRAF forces currently stationed in the city of Gleann Mòr.
> 
> the city, which has been besieged for several years now, is home to one of the Cardinal Points put in place at the start of the Plisetsky dynasty, and the disruption to the historical magical sight was what allowed Alyauntine Solstice Born to attack the Dominicus GMG.
> 
> in recent years the island has been the subject of unending relief efforts and remains a high priority for defence. As such, the IRAF and Imperial Naval forces have been locked in ongoing battle and skirmishes with foreign troops in an attempt to retake the site.
> 
> last night proved to be a severe setback when yet another Sorcerial blast took the lives of several hundred IRAF pilots, and an unknown number of casualties from the _Bruichladdich III_ , which was sunk by opposing forces.
> 
> Cěsarĭ Nikolai, speaking from the announcement podium at the Imperial City with top military advisors early this morning, spoke of his horror regarding Alyaunte's attack, and grief for the loss of life. He expressed his sincerest condolences to families of the casualties, most of whom are still being contacted.
> 
> He has ordered that the militant efforts into the region be redirected to defence, and recovery of the victims and injured...

* * *

**The Bulletin**  
Saturday 27th February 7769-PD

 _WITCHCRAFT RECLAIMS ITS HISTORICAL CROWN AS A KEY ARCANE SCHOOL; IMSA ANNOUNCES THE IMPLEMENTATION OF NEW GALA QUALIFIER THIS SEASON_ by Morooka Hiashi.

 

> Rumours have been flying for weeks regarding the IMSAs stance on Witchcraft as an arcane school, and late last night, the queries regarding its qualifying status were finally revealed.
> 
> Early yesterday morning, Mathieu Moretti - who was awarded the rank of Premiere at the Viteilútian Rhèoruo Coven last year - spoke on behalf of the IMSA.
> 
> He revealed that following the steady increase of the art’s popularity amongst Solstice born, Witchcraft will now operate as a Major Arcane school. ‘ _It is my happy duty to announce that following several months of debate, the IMSA has decided to organise a completely new Magic competition, starting this qualifying season,_ ’ said Moretti. ‘ _Known as the Annual Runic Championships, Wizardry will also be assessed at Gala standards by the Wizarding Guild leaders during this competition. The first competition is planned for the 29th of November later this year, and will be held in Owada-no-Tomari, in the Waspian Archipelago_ ’
> 
> Despite its tenure and history in comparison to other arcane schools, the complexity of witchcraft has made it a lesser-studied art amongst solstice born for the past several hundred years, and indeed was only brought into the gala when it was popularised by Lilia Baranovskaya, and a stable education system established by the Bolshoi Coven.
> 
> The system made it more accessible, and it was introduced as a minor arcane school to the Independent Arcana Fair following her efforts. Now, once again, Lilia Baranovskaya has led the appeal to reclassify the art as a major school with well-received success, though the nod to Katsuki Yuuri indicates that it is not only her influence which has supported the rise of one of Ruthenia’s most ancient magic arts.
> 
> The event will be held in the Waspian Archipelago, coinciding with Meireki’s turn to host the GMG for the 713th installation of the event…

* * *

**The Imperial Express**  
**_The official, approved information source for the Imperial Family._**

 _An interview with Carévič Yuri in the run up to his Birthday celebrations,_ by Andrei Fochabers.

Following a hectic year filled with trials, an imperial celebration is always the kind of thing that brings people together, and this year is no different. I know that I, for one, will be looking forward to the street parties in Dominicus in lieu of my native Myrkvifiörd. Recent events in Albion only make it more important that we come together as an empire and celebrate something.

For my second interview with the young Carévič I was invited to the imperial city itself for the time allowed. I have attended previously during other celebrations, but I can never really wash away my awe upon sight of the palace. I would describe it, but the words escape me.

The past few years have been difficult for the Plisetsky family, but Carévič Yuri hasn’t let the trials and tribulations get to him. My hour with the Carévič took place in his personal rooms alongside several bodyguards, who accompany him at all times since the death of his father, the former Cěsarévič Dmitry, and disappearance of former Cěsarévna Tatiana Nikiforova.

Approaching age ten, he has all the Pityerian heritage of his mother, and speaks the language fluently. Like all boys his age, he was more interested in magic, and his familiar than a wrinkling reporter.

 

> **AF:** _Hello your highness! It’s an honour to meet you again! Who is this?_
> 
> **CY:** _Hello. I don’t remember you. This is Pyotya - she’s my familiar. She’s a Baiyun, so if you make her angry she’ll curse you!_
> 
> **AF:** _She’s very beautiful, so I wouldn’t deem of making her angry, I promise! You were very small the last time we met, so that’s not unusual. Have you had a busy day?_
> 
> **CY:** _I have lessons today. History then Magic with Yakov._
> 
> **AF:** _Are those your magic lessons? Have you decided on a mentor already?_
> 
> **CY:** _No, I’ll do it myself! Grandpa wants Yakov to teach me. He says he’s the best, but I want Viktor to teach me but he’s not here. But I don’t want him to teach me witchcraft, because he’s not a witch!_

| Picture inset of the Imperial Magical Advisor, Viktor Nikiforov, and his mentor, Former Imperial Guard Yakov Feltsman, who have been guessed as candidates to be Carévič Yuri’s mentor |

 

> **AF:** _Ah, you like witchcraft then? I’m sure Viktor could teach you the basics. What about the other arcane schools?_
> 
> **CY:** _He tried already and he can’t, not like Yuuri or Lilia - they can fly! That’s the best magic. I like Voodoo but Grandpa says it’s too dangerous, and I like anti magic too! And Animism and Elementalism and all of it! I’ll do all of it! Except divination - that’s boring._

| Picture inset of Bolshoi Coven founder, Lilia Baranovskaya |

| Picture inset of Katsuki Yuuri, Witchcraft’s first male Premier, Bolshoi Coven, competing in the 712th GMG, Parthenope |

 

> **AF:** _You really do like witchcraft - are you a fan of Yuuri’s?_
> 
> **CY:** _Yeah, I like his spells. They’re way better than Viktor’s! And he can fly, and he’s from Hasetsu - that’s where my ancestor is from! I want to go see it but Grandpa is busy, so we can’t, he says maybe next year though._
> 
> **AF:** _It sounds like quite an adventure you have planned!_
> 
> **CY:** _It will be amazing!_

* * *

**Hasetsu Weekly**  
Saturday 27th February 7769-PD

Page 07 - _OBITUARIES_

 

> **In Memoriam of Fukoshida Hiroshi** , who died peacefully and without pain surrounded by his family late last Sunday morning.
> 
> He passed away at age 95, and leaves behind his wife Fukoshida Terumi (87), and six children Katsuki (50), Jirou (50), Kana (47), Satsuki (33), Haruka (37), and Ryōko (31). His burial cairn will be constructed on his family plot at the Lake Ōmura Burial Grounds following the Carévič festival, and all are welcome to attend the ceremony.
> 
> The Fukoshida clan would like to thank their friends and neighbours for their support, as well as the efforts of Akihito Kazuya-sensei, and Katsuki Yuuri-drȳmann to ensure his comfort and well-being over the past few months.

* * *

Despite the slight cowl that had covered the island with Fukoshida-san’s death, the preparations for the gala continued, and soon, the whole island seemed to be heading to central Hasetsu to get a look at Viktor.

Most people still weren’t convinced that he wasn’t here to help plan some fantastic magical experiment with Yuuri, but the seemed happy to suspend their disbelief when they watched Viktor use his gentle beautiful charm work to levitate the bunting (triangular flags for Hasetsu, Ruthenia, and the imperial family crest), or help gather materials for the bonfire.

In fact, Viktor threw himself into everything; Yuuri quickly noticed how hard he worked to help the villagers prepare for the festival, whether it was through shifting bags of rice, helping to clean out the hundreds of tables that would be placed in the centre of the streets across the island, or joining Yuuri on his trips to the firework points.

The grand display was the pinnacle of every festival in Hasetsu, and this year Yuuri had woven some of his magic into them as a surprise (he hoped) for his fellow islanders. Viktor noticed straight away, but a single finger across Yuuri’s lips swore him to secrecy.

Yuuri hadn’t forgotten his promise to Yuuko. He would and fully intended to speak to Viktor after the festival - the lack of confirmation or denial between them was almost becoming tangible, but seemingly they were both distracted.

The reports of the fighting in Albion, where Fukoshida-san had served in military campaigns before - had brought a fresh wave of grief for his widow, and so Yuuri found himself brewing several more sleeping and calming potions for her and her family the next evening as Viktor poured intently over the Meireki Times.

“Do you have any family there?” He asked, noting that Viktor had turned a little paler after seeing the front page. “In Albion?” He explained when his companion looked up.

“Oh, no, at least none that I know of but… I remember the last sorcerial blast, it was far from pleasant,” he sighed, before tossing the paper aside as Yuuri mixed ylang oil into the powdered violet and chopped linden blossoms in his bowl. Instead Viktor picked up the bulletin instead, and his face brightened. “Yuuri! Have you seen this about the Witchcraft competition? That’s perfect for you! You could sweep the competition and get all the qualifying point without breaking a sweat!” He beamed enthusiastically. “Oh! They’ve set it for your solstice Yuuri!”

“Technically it’s for Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Yuuri began to protest weakly, whilst also wondering how on earth Viktor knew when his birthday was.

“Even better! That’s two major schools out of the way - how much do you use wizardry, out of curiosity?” Victor asked, distracting Yuuri from the valerian roots he had picked up to milk the sap out of.

“Uh… I don’t mind it, the execution isn’t hard, and the spells are easy enough to mix in with my other styles, but I find it hard to use a wand for my magic,” Yuuri said before he even realised the subject had turned to the competition; looking at the valerian roots, he quickly busied himself with the press hooked to one side of the table. “I don’t use it that much for things here. It was purely for the gala.”

Not that it didn’t have its uses, but the only time Yuuri had used it after returning home was when some malicious spirits had been bothering one of the rice farms at the north end of the island. Collecting the liquid from the roots, Yuuri added it all to his bowl, then added it to the hot spring water boiling over a flame, along with his powders.

Vicchan watched him from his usual spot on the table, where his hat had been left and barked imploringly, but Yuuri concentrated on his work. He didn’t want to think about competing just yet.

“Are you sure you’re still alright on the futon?” He asked Viktor - the potion needed to brew overnight, and it was already well past sundown. “I don’t mind swapping.”

“Goodness, no! You get up so early Yuuri, you need to rest! I’m perfectly fine! I’ve slept rough before, and the futon is frankly bliss in comparison, I assure you,” Viktor said; Yuuri remained unconvinced, but Viktor sounded so confident that it was hard to argue with him.

Instead, Yuuri unfurled the second futon and added it onto of the first that had been made up for his idol over the past few days. After closing up the brewing room, they turned in for the night, and Yuuri found himself tossing and turning.

He felt like he needed the sleeping potion. His head was filled with the implications of what Viktor had said about the new witchcraft competition (and also still concerned with where Viktor had learned the date of his birth). His initial worries about qualifying for the gala had been - without taking Vicchan’s injury last December into account - based on how quickly he could prepare for the other qualifiers.

He’d already missed the Annual Spellcrafter’s Summit, and while it would come around twice again before the 713th Gala in Meireki, Yuuri had lost an opportunity to gain points from his Sorcery and Charmistry already. Next up was the Bi-Annual Research Exhibition, and after that he had one shot at the Military Examinations the year of the Gala. This new competition - the Annual Runic Championships? - was a chance for him to make up the points he had lost out on by missing events.

Could he do it though? The gala wasn’t for another two years, give or take, but unlike the other solstice born competing, Yuuri had been out of his training for the past year, and there was still a year until his next real chance to qualify arrived. Until then, he only had the next spell casters summit, having missed the last by a matter of days.

The it would be the Gala year, and if he had the dates right, nearly every single qualifier he needed was that year. It would be almost impossible to prepare for all of them in that time frame, even with Viktor’s help.

The new competition offered some hope; he might end up against some formidable witches, but many had already retired form competitive training, and not everyone who competed in the qualifiers was being graded for the gala.

For instance, at the last research exhibition, Joseph Karpíšek had been first for the competition, and Christophe seconds. However, Joseph-sensei had long retired from the active circuit, and had only competed to maintain his Potioneering license. So, even though Chris came second in the actual completion, he claimed to top amount of points as first amongst those trying to earn qualification points for the Gala.

Yuuri wasn’t one to brag about his magical prowess, but in witchcraft at least, had a realistic chance of getting a high placement. The newest solstice born who had pursued witchcraft he knew hadn’t earned the Premiere rank thanks to the newsprints.

But outside of witchcraft it was no use. He wasn’t at a level where he could realistically compete again, even if he really wanted to, and even Viktor couldn’t invent more time for him. Rolling onto his side, Yuuri tried to bury the rampaging thoughts in his head.

He had almost drifted off - a few hours before dawn no less - when he heard a noise from the living room, where Viktor was sleeping. It was a banging noise, or so he thought at first. After getting to his feet and hovering at his bedroom door, peering out just to be sure, he could see Viktor sitting up, head between his knees, mumbling to himself in rapid Pityerian as a greying poodle licked his face.

“Viktor?” He called out gently, unsure if his presence would be welcome or not. “Is everything alright?”

Viktor started, looking slightly alarmed for a moment before he recognised Yuuri. “I’m sorry, I was ah… having trouble sleeping,” he said wearily; Yuuri could see the slight sheen of sweat on his brow, and the tired smile suggested problems sleeping was probably an understatement. “Did I wake you up?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I was restless, so I’ve been awake for a while,” he said, pausing as he felt a little of the defensive magic in the air. Viktor’s magic. Had he been letting it out while he was sleeping? “If you don’t mind me asking-” Yuuri broke off with a yawn. “-have you had problems with sleeping before?” He asked carefully, hoping he wasn’t prying.

“It can be quite regular, but it’s nothing to worry about. Lilia used to try making something for me but it never really helped,” Viktor said quietly. “My sweet girl here normally just keeps me company and it does the trick,” he added, a more genuine curve on his pips and he fussed over the poodle.

Yuuri couched down beside her after going through to his work room to rummage through the collection of drawers where he kept his spell mixtures and various ingredients. Once beside Makkachin again, he set a small pile of salt and some tobacco down beside here.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he said sincerely to the domovikha, who wagged her tail approvingly, as he reached into another pocket for a small sachet. “It’s a herbal mix I have for some of the islanders,” he explained. “It’s a bit stronger than normal sleep spells - just make it like tea. I don’t know if it will help but if it does, I can show you the recipe.”

“I could make it?” Viktor asked, opening the packet tentatively and sniffing the contents - Yuuri smiled. He still remembered some basics after all. “This smells familiar… Yuuri, is there sloe gin in this?” He asked curiously.

Yuuri nodded. “The dried drupes, powdered down, and the mix is boiled in umeshu first, so its similar.” He paused watching Viktor’s expression, he didn’t seem angry, but Yuuri got the feeling he had said something he shouldn’t have. “If you don’t want to take it I don’t mind-”

“No! I was just surprised is all, thank you Yuuri,” Viktor smiled, earnest and genuine. “I think I will try this tonight, but I’m afraid its nearly sunrise, so I probably won’t have need of it. You’re sure I didn’t wake you up?”

“I’m sure,” Yuuri assured him as Makkachin laid her head on his knee, he wide, warm brown eyes staring up at him. The salt and tobacco were gone, and he leaned don to scratch her behind the ears.

“How did you know she was a domovikha?” Viktor asked. “Most solstice born just give her dog treats unless they’ve trained in empathy-” Viktor cut off, raising an eyebrow curiously. Yuuri fidgeted under the slight scrutiny. “Yuuri?”

“It’s not competitive level, but I had to learn it, it was actually the first kind of accidental magic I used,” he explained, remembering the unhappy, disgruntled feeling coming from Fukoshida-san’s well when he found the Susuwatari. “I trained in combative magic for the competitive circuit.”

Viktor’s brow furrowed. “But surely if it was your first from of magic your mentor would have pushed you to learn it?” He asked. “That was what Yakov did with me. Well, until Piter,” he shrugged, as if mastering two contrasting magical schools in the middle of competitive battle was something one did every day.

“She did,” Yuuri nodded awkwardly, avoiding Viktor’s gaze and getting to his feet to go make some tea, just so he could get away from the scrutiny. He probably sounded ridiculous to Viktor. “But I wanted to…” ‘ _be like you,_ ’ was the unspoken thought in Yuuri’s mind as he searched for alternative words. “…learn something different, and I’m awful at meditation, so I only pursued it to the basic certificate level. Just so I could use it with the spirits here in Hasetsu. To help the island.”

It was the truth. The islanders were nervous of the spirits that came out of the first and the other magical areas of the island. It was hotspot and while they were used to them, and had developed non-magical methods, before Yuuri had been born it had been difficult for them to deal with problems involving the spirits who shared the land with them.

Minako-sensei had always pushed him to learn empathic magic instead, insisted that it was a natural style for him, and that he had a talent for it, but Yuuri had been stubborn. He had wanted to be just like his idol - the man now sitting on a futon with a spell mix Yuuri kept for the war veterans in his hands - and had pursued Combative magic with Celestino-sensei instead.

“I wouldn’t be able to do much more with it now,” he shrugged, setting the kettle to boil.

“I disagree!” Viktor said. - of course he did. “I was completely confused at Piter, I don’t even remember how I managed to use both types, but after I started training I realised that they’re just two sides of the same magical coin. Like in the Waspian witchcraft circles Lilia talked about. Very different, but you can’t have one without the other either. I tried teaching Mila and Georgi but they didn’t understand what I meant - I always found it strange that you couldn’t master one without learning the basics for both,” Viktor sighed and flopped back on his futon. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling - it’s very hard to explain.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to think about that - he couldn’t really fathom the thought that Viktor was interested in his opinion on this. And yet, having someone else besides Minako-sensei to talk about magic with was a very pleasant feeling.

Before Yuuri could give a full response however, the door opened and Vicchan scampered across the tiles, a small pack on his back. He was back from his morning run into the forest, and he’d brought back some treats. Yatagarasu eggs which had been exchanged for some trinket no doubt.

“It’s alright, I think I understand what you mean, but putting it into practice is entirely different,” he said simply. “Do you want eggs today? I’m going to visit my parents and there’s a lot to do for the festival there.”

Viktor brightened. “I’d love some!”

* * *

_Just stare into space, picture my face in your hands; live for each  
second, without hesitation, and never forget I'm your man._

* * *

 

After their morning meal, Yuuri had a few clients form the village and some external spells to send off, and then he and Viktor made their way back down the hill, along the edge of the forest to Yuuri’s childhood home.

The onsen was a hive of activity as the staff and Yuuri’s parents prepared for their own part in the festival. As the largest building except for the castle (which was still haunted by spirits despite his and Minako-sensei's best attempts to remove them) it would be the home of the performers that would start off the evening.

A large square platform was being built up in the central courtyard and vast number of people adding to their costumes and working out the mechanics of the parade pieces; Viktor was soon dragged in to the preparations for his opinion on the Kikimora that would be animated by the dancers. Thrilled, he was soon dragged into helping with magical adjustments to some of the other costumes too.

Hiroko welcomed him with open arms and her halting but kind words of welcome in common before hurting back inside to help the kitchen staff getting the food ready. This was where Yuuri was also needed, casting endless preservation spells on the batches of food that came out of the kitchens, or helping Mari with the onsen rooms, making sure things were prepared for the guests who were still staying, leaving, or arriving.

As this went on, Yuuri constantly felt like he was being watched, and being watched by another solstice born, yet everyone he glanced in Viktor’s direction, he appeared to be distracted. Worry began to creep up that he’d pushed too far in giving Viktor the herbal mix earlier that morning. It was a very forward thing to do, even if the gesture had been meant in kindness. Yuuri probably had been a little too nosy.

While to him it was clear the Viktor had been having a nightmare of some sort, that didn’t mean he could just waltz along and offer a remedy he normally used for the veterans. Ones who had sought the advice of Akihito-sensei in their treatment of PTSD. Perhaps Viktor had heard of the mix, or recognised it. He’d lived with Mistress Lilia after all - for all his claimed ineptitude with potions and witchcraft, he had surely noticed something.

Why else would he ask if it contained sloe gin?

Yuuri had likely presumed too much, and so he ignored the itching feeling of another person’s magic, determined to keep himself distracted by the preparations of the day. In the afternoon, he had another long flight around the island to add some more charms to the firework display.

Then he and Viktor sat down with his parents for a quick meal before he disappeared out into the back of the onsen, to his old practice area. The mayor - though he hardly took on much duty despite the term - had asked Yuuri to be the one to light the firework display after the story and the parade, and Yuuri didn’t want to disappoint him. He had been practicing his fire magic, and while it wasn’t enough for competition, it would be more than enough to light the fuse of the first firework.

The rest, scattered around the island, were magically set to ignite as it did, and Yuuri hoped that after the effort and planning, the display would live up to everyone’s expectations. There was a new determination now though - the part of Yuuri that was irresponsibly excited by the prospect of having Viktor as a mentor was determined to prove himself, wanted to show the imperial advisor just what he could do with a little practice.

He had planned to use Kitsune-bi tonight the fuse, but he had a different idea now. Elemental transportation was a finicky skill, but it too was one that Yuuri had enjoyed - it had reminded him of then precise potions spells he loved so much, but few people used it. Yet it could be very useful, and for events like this, it had impact. Yuuri had seen it used before at a street party in Érié Strait, while he was training with Phichit.

It wouldn’t be much, but he thought it might work better than Kitsune-Bi. Whether or not Viktor liked it was another question, but he continued to practice all the same, hardly batting an eyelid when Minako-sensei took her old spot at the edge of his training area, and watched, offering small amount of advice.

“So, Viktor,” she started when Yuuri paused in his fire manipulations to take a break, feeling eyes on him again - not Minako-sensei’s. He wondered if Viktor was lingering in the bushes that surrounded his practice area.

“Viktor,” Yuuri sighed. “I have no idea what to do Minako-sensei, he says he wants to train me but…” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m finding it hard enough to grasp the concept that we’ve met before, let alone that he wants to train me!” he sighed. “Why on earth would Viktor Nikiforov want to train me?”

“Because you’re a competent Solstice Born Yuuri,” Minako said simply, offering him a water bottle. “Yuuko might not be magical but she’s got good eyes, and she’s not wrong when she says you’ve got the potential to be one of the best. You’re a prodigy in your own right, and you’re the only one that can’t see it,” she sighed gently. “You’re my student, aren’t you? Do you think I would have trained you if I didn’t think you could handle my standards?”

Yuuri bit his lip. He didn’t think that at all, but he’d never found Minako-sensei’s teaching difficult. They were a challenge, certainly, but he’d enjoyed the challenge. There was always something to learn about witchcraft, and the task of teaching himself potions had been nothing less than a labour of love. He knew - realistically - that he had earned his standing as a Solstice Born fair and square. The IMSA logically wouldn’t have offered him an invitation slot in the GMG two years running unless they thought he was competent, even if the second one had notes of a consolation top it.

But he also could help the mental trap his thoughts sucked into; his own determination to win and prove that even someone from his tiny island had a place and a voice in the vastness of the Empire had been his own worst enemy. He criticised himself harsher than either of his Mentors so far, forced himself to improve in Érié Strait faster than any of Celestino-sensei’s other students, much to the man’s worry. He compared himself and only saw what he lacked, what he couldn’t do. It had made him a strong competitor, but it had cause doubt, which in turn had led to his stupidity at the gala. Stupidity that got Vicchan hurt.

The kitsune, who had been taking a break from his poodle form curled up atop Yuuri’s hat seemed to know exactly the direction in which Yuuri’s thoughts were going, and he immediately sat up with a yip. Soaring with a floaty jump, he landed in Yuuri’s arms and began repeatedly licking his face. ‘ _It wasn’t your fault!_ ’ He seemed to say. ‘ _You’re my partner! I want to help you! I had to help you! I would do it again! Please don’t be sad!_ ’. Yuuri held him close, trying to take some comfort from his familiar’s insistence.

“I don’t think Viktor’s here to trick you Yuuri, I can’t sense that at least, and I’m sure you can too,” Minako-sensei smiled. “I think you already know what you want to do. You’ve admired Viktor for years, and the only thing stopping you is your own confidence,” she said. “But you have to decide yourself.”

“Yuuri? Yuuri? Are you out here? I think your mother pointed me in this direction,” a familiar voice called out. Yuuri glanced up behind them and found Viktor standing at the corner of the engawa. Apparently, he hadn’t been in the bushes after all. Viktor turned around, and then his puzzled face brightened.

“Yuuri! Ah, and Mrs Okukawa! It’s a pleasure to meet you in person! I heard a lot about you from Lilia!” He beamed, holding his hand out in greeting to Minako. Yuuri watched as she grinned, and took it, a brief flare of their magic in the contact.

“Likewise, Mr Imperial Advisor; I’d love to stay and talk but I think I’d better get back to the Kagowa clan, they need help with setting up the bonfire in the village, but come find me during the festival, I can tell you all Yuuri’s embarrassing stories!” She winked.

“Minako-sensei!” Yuuri pleaded.

“Just the funny ones I promise,” she assured him. “I’ll see you both later.” With those parting words, she got to her feet and gracefully sauntered away, back into the main building of the onsen.

Unperturbed by her departure, Viktor looked round curiously. “Is this your old training space?” He asked, crouching to the ground to examine a part of the stone slab patio (painstakingly put in by his father) that was permanently stained orange.

“Yes, it was mostly for my potions. They were a bit haphazard for a while,” Yuuri said. “I’ve been practicing for the fireworks. I could have used a base fire spell, but… well it is a festival.”

Viktor smiled. “Don’t tell me! I like surprises! I was wondering something though,” he said. “What is that word the villagers use when they call our names?” He asked curiously, sitting down beside Yuuri. “I heard it quite a few times while I was helping with the costumes for the parade.”

“Drȳmann?” Yuuri asked; Viktor nodded. “It means ‘ _magician_ ’ in common but the translation is probably off. It’s not that specific in Haseian, it’s just what people call Solstice Born, to show respect,” he tried to explain. “Kind of like ‘ _-sensei_ ’ is for both doctors and teachers, like Minako and Celestino-sensei.”

Ah, I think I understand,” Viktor nodded. “I wondered, since I didn’t hear anyone use it except when they were talking to me, or about you and Minako,” he explained. “I think your father is look for you - something about water for the punch?”

Yuuri blinked, then gasped. “I completely forgot! We use the hot spring water for it, but I need to put it in containers to keep it hot until tomorrow!”

“Would you like some help? I can conjure the containers if you need them!” Viktor asked.

Yuuri nodded, scrambling to his feet and picking up his hat; Vicchan scrambled beneath it just before he put it on his head. “That would be a help - a big few ones would be even better! We could put a weightlessness charm on it and it would save so many trips back and forth to the spring tomorrow,” Yuuri mumbled.

As they headed back inside, he got the feeling he was being watched again, and turned back around to examine the training area. Nothing.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked, glancing around. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s probably just a kodama,” he shrugged. The tree spirits always needed up gathering whenever solstice born were near, and Viktor’s presence had like as much drawn a few in from the depth of the forest.

“What’s a kodama?”

Heading through the house to find his father, Yuuri soon forgot his worries as he explained the term, described the small tree dwellers, to Viktor, and they threw themselves once again into preparations for the festival.

* * *

_Wait on me girl, cry in the night if it helps, but more than  
ever, I simply love you more than I love life itself._

* * *

 

The night came quickly when hard work was being performed. There was still a lot to do in the morning, before the celebration began in the afternoon, but the majority of the preparations were complete. After dinner with his parents, it was with some reluctance that Yuuri headed back to his Pharmakeia with Viktor.

The thought of a soak in the onsen was appealing, but before that, he had to check through a pile of letters that had arrived. There was a reply from Christophe, and one from Phichit, as well as several from some clients who lived in the Archipelago, and on the mainland.

He opened the letters from his clients first, checking through them for the orders or queries, and quickly scribbling some replies as Viktor had a private soak. He avoided the letter from Christophe, almost out of fear for what it would say. He didn’t think Chris had shown Viktor any of their letters, but the thought still nagged, and he wasn’t quite ready to answer it yet.

The second letter was from Phichit. He had sought advice on how to attract some faeries to the festival, hoping he could get some to sit between the bunting flags. Most faeries were happy to help human celebrations - they loved parties and dancing and stories - for something in return, but the ones in the forest were shy, so long had they gone without a magical presence to help them to communicate with the villagers.

Phichit’s instructions were clear and easy to follow, and after leaving out a trough of thick, sweet syrup made from agave, jasmine oil, roses, sugar violet powder and almonds, one of the tiny creatures soon flitted about it as Yuuri gently coaxed into conversation.

Viktor emerged from the onsen and watched the sight patiently until the faerie disappeared, after Yuuri had negotiated with her. “What did they want in return?” Viktor asked. “Was it something for the festival?”

“She wants some help with a bad spirit that’s putting her hive in danger, so I’ll go into the forest tomorrow to do that before everything else,” Yuuri said. “I was hoping they’d come to the festival - I saw it in Érié Strait, and I want to try. Everyone loves Faeries, so it’s a good place to start.”

“You really love it here,” Viktor smiled. “I can see why. Everyone’s so welcoming, it’s like a giant family,” he said, watching the glow of the faerie as she fluttered back into the forest. “That’s a nice feeling. It’s good that you want to help them connect to magic more. It makes me wonder…”

“If magic was still widespread?” Yuuri asked. Viktor nodded. “I do too. Sometimes, but then, if it was, I wouldn’t be able to help my home like this, and I wouldn’t have met Phichit or Celestino-sensei, maybe not even Minako-sensei, or you.”

You have a point, I’m glad for it in that case, Viktor decided with a determined nod. “Yuuri, I know I showed up rather unexpectedly. If you don’t want to compete, then I won’t force you to do that. That has to be your decision, and I know how unpleasant it can be. I can’t blame you for wanting to go public after what happened to Vicchan, but…” he broke off, turning to face Yuuri ever so slightly. “…Would you mind if I selfishly asked to stay here for a little while anyway? I’d love to learn magic like this,” he said, swirling a finger in the sticky sweet syrup.

For a second, as he accidentally tapped into the waves of magic curling protectively around Viktor, like a comforting blanket, Yuuri forgot he was talking to Viktor Nikiforov, The best sorcerer in the word, Imperial Magical Advisor. He felt like he was talking to himself - someone who wanted an ordinary life.

He quickly stopped the accidental use of empathic magic, but the feeling stayed with him. It felt like everything Yuuri bottle up, but different. The opposite almost. He tried to blot it from his mind - it was very rude to intrude on Viktor’s private thoughts or emotions like that.

“You can stay as long as you want Viktor,” he said sincerely. The first thing he felt sure of since Viktor had arrived. “It’s nice, having another Solstice Born to talk to. Just don’t try to help with any of my potions,” he added teasingly.

Viktor’s face lit up. “Yuuri! That’s unfair! How will I learn if I don’t experiment?”

“Make a build cure and I’ll consider it.”

“Yuuri!”

* * *

_Time on my hands could be time spent with you; laughing like children, living  
like lovers, rolling like thunder under the covers._

* * *

 

Yuuri thought about Viktor’s words for the entirety of his own soak in the onsen. He leaned back against the rocks, occasionally washing Vicchan’s fur when he dived in for a swim from his cushioned perch (Yuuri’s hat) and stared blankly out as the sunset, listening to the chirp of the bugs and the echoes of the kodama voices, the yamabiko, from the nearby forest.

‘ _I heard you were in need of a mentor for the Qualifiers from Chris, and came to offer my assistance!_ ’, he’d said, followed by ‘ _If you don’t want to compete, then I won’t force you to do that. That has to be your decision, and I know how unpleasant it can be,_ ’ only a half hour or so earlier.

The announcement spoken on Viktor’s arrival also swum through his mind incessantly, and Yuuri still didn’t have an answer. He thought about Yuuko’s advice, and the promise he had made her. He also decided that waiting until after the festival would be no good.

He wanted to enjoy it, and he couldn’t do that if he was worrying about this all evening. Yuuko probably did too. He needed to speak to Viktor clearly, and he would do so tonight. After finishing the soak, rinsing down with a cool shower lodged at the side of the walkway (a habit he’d continued after training in Érié Strait), he dressed in a jinbei that was loose and cool for the early spring that approached, and then searched for his houseguest.

He found him sitting in the potion room again - he was utterly fascinated with it - pouring over ‘ _Potions for Beginners_ ’ by Joseph Karpíšek at the table where Yuuri had made the fertility potions. That felt like aeons ago, a different reality now. Yuuri smiled as he approached, seeing the open page on boil cures, and the determined expression on Viktor’s face as he poured over the words.

“What? How do I get onion milk?” He frowned to himself, flipping to the reference section at the back of the book. “Why can’t it just say all this on the one page?”

“You have to mash up the onion itself until it’s a paste, then squeeze all the fluid out. It should be cloudy,” Yuuri said, sitting down beside him. Viktor jumped, but settled a moment later, and nodded, though he stopped for a moment.

“Wont that smell? And make us cry quite drastically?” He asked, sounding a little nervous.

“Oh, it makes you sob like a baby,” Yuuri said. “But it’s good to practice - I had to do it until I was qualified enough to order ingredients from the IMSA warehouses, and you build up resistance after a while,” he said. “I got faster because I couldn’t stand crying all the time, and that worked out for other things where it’s more important for a hand touch.”

Viktor sighed but nodded, looking to the back of the book again for the instructions. Then he chopped up the pile of onions he’d gathered -Yuuri had given him blanket permission to use anything he needed for his magic, except for his advanced things, but those were locked up anyway.

Predictable Viktor ended up with stream of tears down his face after grinding the chopped layer vegetable to a paste in a pestle and mortar. Then it was scooped into a sheet of muslin and squeezed out into a glass flask. A very small one.

“That’s it?” Viktor sniffed in utter dismay, staring at the tiny amount of milky fluid.

“You’ll ned to get the milk from about ten more for this potion,” Yuuri said, trying not to laugh at Viktor’s horrified expression.

He persevered though, furiously chopping the rest of the onions he needed as fast as he could; by the time he was done his eyes were incredibly wet, and he’d cut one of his fingers, but he had moved onto the next stage.

He’d dried the fresh onion flowers by extracting the moisture from them with a water spell, and pounding a pile into a powder, mixing it to a past with the milk from the onions under Yuuri’s careful watch. Then he started boiling the apple cider with the tarmaret and pile of sea salts from Yuuri’s generous dry stores.

“What do I do with the potatoes? There’s a mark over that section,” Viktor asked, pointing to the blue splotch in the book.

“You let them soak in the onion milk and powdered flowers,” Yuuri said. Viktor did as Yuuri instructed, and by that time the boiling part of the potion was ready.

“You need to encase the liquids in your magic as you combine them,” Yuuri said when Viktor started to add them together. “Like a glove or a shroud,” he explained, even as Viktor corrected himself. Yuuri watched as Viktor’s magic became strong enough to twinkle it familiar, friendly pink colour around the two liquids as he poured the onion mix from the flash. “You can throw away the potato skins.”

The last ingredient was melasol oil, which turned the potion a sunny green and thickened it to something that had the texture of runny custard. “Well?” Viktor asked eagerly. “How is it?”

Yuuri feigned deep thought. “It’s alright, your magic was too strong so the texture is too thin and runny, it should be thicker, like oatmeal, but it would work,” he said. He couldn't really criticise too much - his first boil cure had been yellow, not green.

“So, does that mean I can help you with your potions? I made a boil cure after all,” Viktor asked, smiling earnestly as Makkachin jumped up to lean her paws and head on his lap.

“I guess you did, just wash your hands. Melasol oil can kill you if you swallow enough of it,” he warned, looking at Makkachin who was sniffing at Viktor’s messy hands. His eyes widened and he quickly yanked them away from her nose and went to the sink, then began a quick scouring charm with a blue handled want pulled from the holster on his thigh.

“You look like you have a question for me Yuuri,” he said after a few moments of silence, which Yuuri wondered how to broach the subject he wanted. Startled, it took him a moment to collect his thoughts into something direct.

“Viktor, why are you here?” He asked, quiet earnest fear in his voice, quickly garnering Viktor's attention. “Not that I don’t want you here - I meant it. It’s nice to have some extra company I can talk to about magic but… I really don’t understand what brought you all the way here.”

“As I said, I heard from Chris that you were in need of a mentor for returning to the competitive circuit,” Viktor said simply, sitting down at the table again. “I came to offer my services,” he explained, watching curiously as Yuuri unfastened the lid of a jar of herbal the he usually kept for nervousness, and dumped a generous spoonful into a mug, alongside a normal one for Viktor.

“Chris… he showed you my letter?” Yuuri asked, a feeling of dread lining his belly, turning it to stone.

“Oh goodness, _no!_ Chris would _never_ do that, but he was unsure how to respond, and asked me for a little advice, I promise you, on the magic of my birth,” Viktor assured him quickly. “It was the same with the leopards! He mentioned you were going on an expedition and I was curious!” Viktor paused. “I really must apologise for that; I ended up being a complete hindrance to you, and if I hadn’t pushed us off that ledge you wouldn’t have been nearly so ill!”

Ah. There went Yuuri’s attempts to write off the disastrous expedition as a hallucination once and for all. He could see it fluttering away in his mind’s eye. Now he was not only mortified beyond belief over his inelegant disposition, and unfriendly behaviour towards Viktor’s cloak, but couldn’t help but wonder something else; why exactly had Viktor been curious enough about him, of all the solstice born in existence, to track him down in the middle of the Říp Mountains?

“Y-You’re forgiven,” Yuuri said, his voice somewhere between a choke and a squeak. “But, Viktor,” he frowned, unsure of how to put his words across. “If Chris spoke to, then you do realise I still haven’t decided yet if I’m going to compete again, not in time for the Meireki Gala at least,” he said, gently heating some water in a cauldron he kept he specifically for the purpose - tea always tasted better from a cauldron than a kettle.

“I think I remember it briefly,” Viktor nodded, accepting the mug Yuuri had poured for him. “I don’t suppose you have any honey?” He asked curiously, looking at the botanical-coloured liquid curiously. “I love Waspian tea, but I do like a bit of sweetness to it,” he confessed. “I am a Nikiforov after all. Some things will never change, and strong, sweetened tea is one of them.”

Yuuri smiled and nodded, well practiced in the habit. Getting to his feet he went to one of the storage drawers lining the walls, behind the table and the spot where Viktor was seated. Taking a small one - with chilling and preservation charms - he let Viktor decant a small amount of the heather honey into his beverage.

“I like it that way when I make it with milk, just don’t tell my family. You won’t find anyone else who likes it that way here,” he said, trying to think of something to fill the silence. Really. Tea. Viktor Nikiforov, the man who had inspired more than half of his career as a solstice born, was sitting right in front of him and what was he talking about instead of his competitive career? Tea.

“Say no more - my mother and grandfather would have dropped dead rather than drinking anything less than the smoked black-leaf, so your secret is safe with me!” Victor winked, taking a sip after adding what seemed like half the store of honey to his mug. “Ēstelīc,” he declared, taking another mouthful. “As for competing, well, if it’s an experienced ear you need to come to a decision, then I’m happy to provide that, but I’m confident that I can help you qualify if that’s what you want.”

Yuuri listened, trying to find a hint a lie in the words, but he was still unconvinced. Not because he doubted Viktor’s ability of confidence in his statement, but because he was still just confused.

“But why me?” He insisted. “I’m hardly anything special.”

Viktor stopped stirring his tea, staring at Yuuri in shock, then his face softened a little. “I think your magic is amazing Yuuri, your spells are beautiful and so gentle; I don’t think I know how to make anything as serene or peaceful as that,” he said simply. “Dropping out of the gala, that wasn’t weakness to me. I wish I had half the strength it must have taken to do that for Vicchan,” He added. “Our familiars are part of us, part of our magic - if you think people would look down on you for making that decision, you shouldn’t.”

Yuuri stared at him in shock; winter thought his magic was amazing? Why? It was so boring and plain compared to his. Yuuri didn’t dare ask though - the mention of Vicchan had him biting his lip. He had to admit, hearing that from Viktor assuaged some of the lingering guilt he felt, thou by no means all. Still, it was good to know Viktor respected his decision back then. He even called it strength.

“Can… I think on it a little longer?” He asked. “You can stay as long as you like either way, I wouldn’t mind an assistant,” he said, trying to joke to cover up the rush of half excite, half fearful nerves.

“You can think as long as you want, I don’t want to force you to compete,” Viktor promised, his smile beaming again. “And I’ll be the best assistant you’ll ever have!”

Yuuri could help snorting at the declaration; even if he believed none of Viktor’s other words, he certainly did those.

* * *

_And I guess that's why they call it the blues._

* * *

I love chai lattes and matcha lattes way too much, ok? I had a chilled maple chai while I was working on this fic in town the other day and it was deliciously inspiring for Awkward Small Talk™. You can thank my mother for the update - she has been nagging for since she read chapter 3. Frequently ~~help~~.

So, as some may have noticed in the last chapter, my tracking for prior events has been a bit of an… uh… epic failure regarding dates; with any luck, these had all been sorted, but I’ve traced a few more, and just to make you aware, Yuuri is actually _seventeen_ by a few months, not sixteen, and Viktor twenty-one. Yuri will be turning ten years old on the festival in the next chapter, not nine ~~again, because I’m am a moron who cannot number things~~.

I’ve been churning everything through a new timeline creator I’ve downloaded, and honestly, it’s been worth its weight in gold. It has helped so much, and I’ve corrected a few other things, but those are the only major ones I feel people need to know about.

Some people were concerned about Yuuri’s age also, and I will just blanket say there will be nothing explicit as of yet. The age change probably helps settle that a bit, but honestly, it’s just a happy coincidence, and was a result my own ineptitude lol.

I’m also looking for new musical inspiration, so if anyone has any suggestions for music hit me up on Tumblr! I’m always on the lookout for good music for later chapters, and I love a lot of stuff from the 50s to 80s a ~~nd the 90s - I'm trash for crappy 90s music~~.

Speaking of, the musical inspiration for this chapter, for those who don't know ~~how can you not tho?~~ , is '[I Guess That's Why They Call it The Blues](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6KYAVn8ons)' by Sir Elton John.


	5. El Dorado!

 

_Our glorious city was built by the divinities, by Gods, who saw fit to bestow the gift of a paradise - peaceful and harmonious - upon us mere mortals below._

* * *

Yuuri lay awake pondering Viktor’s word for far less time than he had before; the honesty had struck a chord with him during their conversation, and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel emboldened by the sincerity.

‘ _I think your magic is amazing Yuuri, your spells are beautiful and so gentle; I don’t think I know how to make anything as serene or peaceful as that. Dropping out of the gala, that wasn’t weakness to me. I wish I had half the strength it must have taken to do that for Vicchan; our familiars are part of us, part of our magic - if you think people would look down on you for making that decision, you shouldn’t._ ’

Rather than tossing and turning all night, Yuuri found himself drifting off to sleep, imagining all the possible ways he just might be able to qualify for the GMG again. It was a complete fantasy, but no longer a terrifying one.

Just because he was allowing himself to entertain delusions however didn’t mean he could drop everything though, and he woke just before the dawn, and stumbled through into his living room, past Viktor in search of coffee, or an energy potion, or both. Both was a probably a better idea.

It had been long day previously, and honestly, he had yet to recover entirely from Viktor’s words the night before; it was several hours before sunrise if the feeling he got from it for his fire spells were to be believed, and he had a long way to travel.

After swallowing several cups of tea and a few overly sweet energy potions, he turned his eyes to Viktor on his futon. He was cuddled up with his familiar in his arms; the domovikha looked like a comforting blanket, and Yuuri wished he and Vicchan could stay in bed.

He needed to warn Viktor that he was leaving though; it wouldn’t be fair to leave him in the lurch. Approaching carefully, he gently put a hand on the man’s shoulder, using a light charm to carefully rouse him from sleep.

“Mrngh…. Čĭto vrěmę?” Viktor mumbled. “Yuuri?” He asked blearily, looking around in confusion.

“I’m sorry to wake you so early, but I’m heading into the forest to help the faeries with the spirit that was bothering their hive,” Yuuri apologised quickly, voice low so he didn’t disturb Viktor more than necessary. “I’ll probably be back by mid-afternoon. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Féja?” Viktor blinked, then his eyes widened with understanding. “Oh! Of course! Hang on a moment! I’ll be ready in two minutes I promise!”

Yuuri, who had been expecting his guest to fall straight back to sleep, blinked in confusion himself, and not at the sleepy lapse of common into Pityerian. In seconds, Viktor had forced himself to sit up, cast a quick cleaning charm (going by the sudden pink glow of his pale skin), and was then pulling on fresh clothes.

Resigning himself to the company without much protest, Yuuri left him to it to go collect some things from brewery and store rooms. He also made sure to scoop up a flask of the sweet potion he’d made the night before. During his and Viktor’s rest, the faeries had completely cleared out most of it, but taking some with them would never hurt.

By the time he’d cleaned up and stoppered the glass bottle, Viktor was stumbling out of the door. He was dressed in his usual billowy shirt and dark trousers, but the Sorcerer’s cloak Yuuri had previously burned had been replaced with a blue one, with what looked like white fur of some kind around the collar.

Yuuri wordlessly handed him a couple of energy potions as they began to walk. Making a face as he swallowed them, Yuuri led Viktor and Makkachin along the narrow path into the forest behind his home.

“Is there any particular reason we’re leaving this early? I don’t mind, I’m just curious, I’ve neglected a lot of my basics in regards animism and witchcraft,” Viktor asked as they walked, almost tripping over a root as they passed through the back gate of Yuuri’s gardens into the less well-kept forest outskirts.

“Faeries can only be seen during ' _tween times,_ ’ like sunrise or twilight, eclipses, thing like that,” Yuuri reminded. “We need to be by the nest before the sun comes up, else we won’t be able to talk to them, and I might not be able to see whatever spirit is bothering them either.”

“…and now I feel rather silly; please don’t tell Lilia I ever forgot - she’d be so displeased,” Viktor chuckled, his eyes looking around as they walked.

Their eyes had adjusted to the dimness, though it wasn’t as dark as it had been a few months previously, and the dim light was a little eerie as they pushed on into the forest. It was a thick one, full of oaks and pines, birch and horse chestnut trees, and as they began to pass under the canopied leaves, it truly felt like night-time.

“ _Steorra_ , it’s no wonder people don’t come here, I can’t imagine it any easier to see during the daytime,” Viktor noted, ducking through under some thick branches. “And if its attracting strong spirits I’d be wary too.”

“Now you know why the old islanders call it Middeniht Bēam,” Yuuri smiled. “I must admit, even I have trouble finding my way sometimes, but that’s to be expected, considering who’s buried here - all the magic in the area doesn’t really help,” he admitted, holding a branch back for him. “But there are ways through.”

“Have you really been to Ryûzôji no Daisuke’s tomb then? I thought it was just limited to the Imperial family?” Viktor asked, voice quiet and hushed as if the leaders might be listening in with secret spells.

“I double checked with the IMSA, and anyone with a full magical license can visit, but it’s very difficult to get to, so not many people have been there” Yuuri explained. “I can fly; not everyone has that luxury though.”

“I know, and I’m incredibly jealous!” Viktor bemoaned. “Sorcerial flight magic is so _exhausting_! Yakov and the Cěsarĭ can do it, but I have terrible stamina. I can only last about five minutes!”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, before leading them off the track, amongst the tangle of roots and between the trees, a complete tangent from the woodcutters trail they had been following. Ahead of him Vicchan was leading the way, a silvery ball of light curled protectively in the end of his tail, lighting the way.

“I’m assuming the faeries let you know where their hive is?” Viktor asked as they clambered over a particularly dark and thick section of roots, before sliding down a slope into a darkened tunnel of trees

“Nope, if we want them to help, we have to find them first, but don’t worry, it’s not hard,” Yuuri assured him as he landed at the bottom of what appeared to be another pathway.

Sliding down the small incline with sure feet, Viktor joined him, and Yuuri put a finger to his lips. After a few moments of waiting, a small bluish white light began to glow some distance away and his companion’s eyes widened with recognition and understanding. “Yuuri, that’s genius,” Viktor said hoarsely. “A Wisp’s way is the best way,” he quoted, backing away not out of fear, but so that the gentle, sometimes flippant spirit didn’t focus on him.

Wisps weren’t malicious, and always liked to help travellers, or people who were searching for something, tangible or otherwise; they were connected to the same magical branches of the world that witchcraft was, the lines between things, boundaries and borders that governed the Ruthenian Empire, as well as those between the physical world and magic itself.

Wisps were beings born from pure magical energy, and they traded their services for mental energies, or magic, but it was so slight a price that no-one had ever suffered from the trade. This one floated around Yuuri chirping excitedly. Yuuri didn’t even have to speak - like many spirits, Wisps had some telepathic talents.

In moments, the Wisp swirled excitedly around him, siphoning a little energy and learning what he wanted, and then dived into the ground. A silvery bright path the same colour as the Wisp began to show on the track that stretched ahead, heading deeper into the trees and winding through the trunks and mulch. The moonlight shone down upon them through a few small gaps in the tree branches, and those patches shone under the additional light.

“Oh my… _how?_ ” Viktor asked as he breathed in, astonished by the brilliant blue glow now lighting up the trees. “I’ve never seen a Wisp do that before, just seen a few leave trails in the air! Yuuri, this is _beautiful!_ It’s such a light blue colour too! Almost silver or white!”

“Minako-sensei thinks it’s all the residual magic left over from when Ryûzôji no Daisuke began his side of the Five Point Enchantment, or maybe when it finished. It might even be lingering magic from the tomb itself,” Yuuri explained. “Since Wisps are more or less part of the same magic spectrum, we think that they can use it to guide people through a bit differently than normal,” he said, smiling at Viktor’s expression. “They love it here,” he chuckled, watching as several more of the gentle spirits peeked out of the leaves to watch as they trod along the path their companion had given the two solstice-born.

“I’ve never seen so many,” Viktor whispered, as if worried he might scare the Wisps away. “Then again, if Ryûzôji no Daisuke is entombed here, it is fitting. If I remember correctly was his familiar not a Wisp?”

Yuuri nodded. The first time Minako-sensei had shown him this he’d been astounded too, and possibly fallen a little bit in love with the oft-avoided forest. He couldn’t say it was safe for non-magicals though - just because Yuuri could see the beautiful spaces here didn’t mean malicious spirits weren’t common, and even with pre-prepared spells, there was only so much the villagers could do here.

The Wisps were one of the kindest creatures though, and more than once had led a lost child back home, or a meandering hunter to the safety of the onsen. Yuuri followed the shimmering bluish light without a hint of worry, and Viktor took his lead, matching steps beside him as they made their way through the forest, with the multitude of Wisps in every spectrum of colour watching from the trees and bushes.

The nest was deep in a clearing filled with old tree stumps long over grown by wildflowers, the rat of the trees just starting to surround it again with an encroaching canopy. The Wisp hovered above the remains of a tree felled by lightning in the centre of the clearing, disappearing with a gentle twinkle once it was sure Yuuri had seen his destination; in the back of his mind, Yuuri could almost he the silent cheep, the friendly, unspoken thanks.

Like the rest of the stumps, the downed tree was covered in foliage and moss; it was in the middle of a large patch of Weliġwyrt, ones which drew a surprising reaction from Viktor.

“Ivannŭçay cvětŭ!” He gasped, hurrying in front of Yuuri into the sea of pink-purple perennials. “I haven’t seen so many since I moved to Dominicus! My father used to use these to make tea - like in the story of Ivan the Defender?” He said, brushing a hand up one of the long stalks, over the long leaves fondly. “What do you call it here??

“On Hasetsu we call it Weliġwyrt, but they call it Yanagikōsō in Waspian,” Yuuri said. “I think its common name is-”

“Lus Tine?” Viktor beamed. “I remember this - it’s in disinfectant the potions mass produced for doctors, isn’t it?” Yuuri nodded, watching as Viktor looked around curiously. “I think it’s used in anti-magic spells too. To help spread them. I remember Yakov warning me about it the first time I was up against Bin,” he mused, turning back to the flowers.

They had made it well before sunrise, and in the still dim light, the flowers looked a deep purple, with a dusting of blue magic left by the wisp where it had flown over the tall plants.  The clearing was silent, but any moment, the sun would be breaking, and then they would have work to do.

“Do you think we could…?”

“Probably better to ask first, but there’s more spots I can show you on the way back -  we won’t need the Wisp, and as long as were back before the afternoon to help with the festival we should have time to gather some,” Yuuri said. Now that he’d been shown where the clearing was, he wouldn’t have any problem finding his way home.

Viktor nodded, standing back. “That’s a good point. I never thought of that, I really should have listened to Lilia more,” he sighed, joining Yuuri at the edge of the clearing again. The sun just starting to bleed into the dark morning sky, and Yuuri could see Viktor’s breath crystallising as they waited.

As the light began to creep over them, it only took a blink and then there was the hive. The trunk was the centre of the faerie settlement, where the queen slept daintily on a hammock spun from spider webs and line with clovers.

Around her, amongst the spires of Weliġwyrt, other hammocks had been made, no more than a finger’s length across, housing sleeping pairs and tiny downy winged younglings wrapped safely in their parent’s wings.

Sensing a gentle flare of magic, the queen raised her head instantly, flying over to Viktor and Yuuri. She was three times the size of her wards, and Yuuri held his hand out for her to land, she was still small, a little chubby like a human child, with grand wings that shimmered red and gold. Two antennae poked from her head of red hair, and though she appeared semi-transparent to the two solstice-born, she gave off a faint golden glow.

“Hello,” Yuuri greeted, layering his words with magic the way Phichit had once taught him, hoping it would be enough to transmit his meaning; he’d never entirely got the grasp of it. True enough, it had worked the night before, but having Viktor beside him was slightly nerve-wracking.

The faerie began to chitter and chatter in pips and squeaks; Yuuri kept up the magic that translated her words, then nodded once she had finished her explanation. “There’s an Aosaginohi that’s been hunting them,” he said to Viktor, who raised an eyebrow at the name. “It’s a bird spirit, harmless to us but a problem for the faeries,” Yuuri clarified. “I don’t suppose you know how to make repellent charms?” He asked, hoping to make Viktor a bit more included in the expedition.

“Probably not the kind for delicate matters such as this; I think they might be appropriate for Kikimora, perhaps Alyauntine, but not Faeries,” he apologised.

Yuuri deflated only a little, and nodded again. “Alright then,” he said, looking around at the edge of the clearing to see what kind of resources were available. He could always have used faerie dust, but that would be seen as rude by the creatures he was making an exchange with.

“Could you go pick six or seven big handfuls of that wild lavender?” He suggested instead. Viktor brightened, and nodded.

“That I’m sure I can manage!” He promised confidently, backing out of the Weliġwyrt patch and heading back to the treelike surrounding the clearing.

Yuuri moves a little farther away, getting some fresh Croibhfola, making sure not to crush the red petals, then he moved across the field towards a craggy hill face where Sakurasō were prolific, and a point in why the faeries had chosen this spot. It was probably a source of the pollen they consumed, or perhaps the leaves. Taking care not to take more, and never from the same plant, he soon had what he needed.

Making his way back to Viktor (who had amassed the wild lavender he had requested), he gestured for him to follow a little further out of the clearing.

“What next?” Viktor asked as he deposited his yield into the foraging bag Yuuri held out for him.

“I need an Aosaginohi feather,” Yuuri said. “I didn’t bring any feathers with me, and conjuring one won’t work so we’ll just have to get one the old-fashioned way,” he sighed. “We need to go out to the coastal side of the forest, it shouldn’t be too long though.”

Indeed, it didn’t, though they did have to trawl through several different paths, under many branches, kicking up mulchy footprints in their wake; the forest met out on a plateau decorated with grasses, and some peat bogs. the cries of seabirds and stench of their guano rose of the salt of seawater and crash of waves at the base of the chalky white cliff, but those were just gulls. The bird they sought was harder to find.

Leading the way to some of the grassy peat bogs Yuuri and Viktor began to search for nests. It was that time of year, and it was the easiest way to find now without catching one of the heron-spirits. After brief description Viktor knew what he was looking for, and was actually the one to find their treasure.

It had been caught amongst some of the grasses, not far off a possible nest site. With the feather, Yuuri quickly led them away so as not to disturb the birds further, and to get back to their main task. Using some basic magic to dry out the lavender, Sakurasō and Croibhfola, and a few more herbs form Yuuri’s foraging back, victor was occupied with grinding them down into a powder.

Yuuri meanwhile had the delicate and time-consuming task of peeling away the barbs from the feather’s shaft, siphoning of the magical residue into a flask as he did, then doing the same as Viktor, and drying everything out so it could be ground to a fine powder.

They managed to finish at the same time, and after mixing the two powders together, they made their way back to the faerie hive. They had a sizeable amount of powder.

“Can you cast a pentagram?” Yuuri asked Viktor - it was a basic part of most Arcane schools so he guessed so, but it was always safer too ask.

“In my sleep,” Viktor assured him. “Do the lines need to be steady? Or just a general definition?”

“I usually make the circle fairly well defines, then add piles of magic or my medium at outer points; that makes the lines more or less useable for the spells which are only for a specific area,” Yuuri said. “I know some people don’t like that way though.”

Viktor snorted. “Don’t listen to purists Yuuri, if everything stayed the same, nothing would ever grow. and nobody would learn. That goes for solstice born as well,” he said bluntly, giving him a wink of reassurance. “I was going to use that method unless you preferred otherwise. What are you going to do with your half?” He asked.

“I need to draw in my triquetra in the central hexagon,” Yuuri said. “Then we add this and activate the circle; it should ward away any more Aosaginohi and keep them from bothering the hive. There fairly harmless, just private, so I’d rather not go hunting for one if I can help it,” he added holding up the flask with the heron-spirit’s magic inside. “Do you still want to go find some more… is it Ivannŭçay cvětŭ you called them?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Viktor nodded hopefully.

“Of course not, I’d like to try some; I’ve never used it much in my potions so it might be fun to experiment with it,” Yuuri nodded. “Maybe it’s a secret ingredient of some kind,” He chuckled.

“Lilia uses it frequently; since you share a coven I don’t think she’d mind letting you see some of her notes on it; I’ll write and ask her!” Viktor beamed. “Should we start?” He asked pointing to the tree line.

The sun was much higher now, and it was just starting to crest the canopy; the colours of the Weliġwyrt - the green leaves and stamens and purple flowers that rose past Viktor’s hips in height, and even further above Yuuri’s - were almost singing with brightness.

The slight wind had torn the fluffy seeds from the sea of flowers, and they were starting to rise around them, swirling as gentle magic in the forest sought to redirect them to a new home. Like tiny clouds, they swirled around the faerie hive, and the two solstice-born standing within its domain. The thought of exchanging notes with the founder of modern witchcraft neither terrified nor shocked Yuuri as it ought to have.

“Let’s get to it,” Yuuri nodded.

* * *

_And made El Dorado, the magnificent and golden, one thousand years ago._

* * *

**The Imperial Express**

**_The official, approved information source for the Imperial Family_ ** **.**

_The Imperial Plisetsky Household announces the Official Celebrations for Carévič Yuri Dmitryevich Plisetsky, heir to the Plisetsky Line, Five Point Enchantment, and future Cěsarĭ of the Ruthenian Empire, as he celebrates his 10th Solstice, a Spring Equinox, on this day, the 1st of March 7769-PD._

A message from Cěsarĭ Nikolai.

 

> This year has been a busy one for my grandson, and following the hectic nature and troubles he has faced, I would like to thank each and every one of Ruthenia’s citizens for the overwhelming love and support they have given him.
> 
> As his first year in the public eye, he has faced many new experiences, and I am immensely proud of the respect and care he has given not only to his duties and studies, but likewise to the people who have supported him through this difficult time.
> 
> As I think to his birth ten years ago however, I do not think of the trials surrounding it, or the birth of my successor. I remember holding the tiny baby I call ‘ _Yurachka_ ’.
> 
> I remember holding my grandson for the first time, and like any grandparent, today I am simply overjoyed to help him celebrate. He fills my life with joy and amusement, and I hope that he will continue to do so for all the I am given with him in our world.
> 
> As each and every one of the peoples who form our great empire celebrate tonight with stories and ledges, fireworks and feasts, whilst I am overjoyed by the desire to share in Yuri’s happiness, I hope I can be forgive for selfishly looking forward not to the grand parties across Dominicus, or the palace events being held, but to our small private celebrations.
> 
> After all, like all others, we are just a family like everyone else.
> 
> | Picture inset of a laughing child, trying to escape tickling, and Cěsarĭ Nikolai, laughing just as much |
> 
> I will have already said so, but in case you happen to read this, Happy Birthday Yurachka, with love always,
> 
> Grandpa.

* * *

After the faerie queen had given Yuuri the assurance that she and her hive would be at the festival later on, he and Viktor headed back to his Pharmakeia, with only a brief stop on the way to harvest the lower leaves of the Weliġwyrt flowers.

They stuffed two of Yuuri’s foraging bags full of them, and also harvest a large crop of the large plants with their roots for Yuuri to put into his dried stores and preserving cabinets. Once they got back, after a quick breakfast of more Yatagarasu eggs in cob rolls, they made their way up to the onsen.

Like the previous day it was a hive of activity; most people were in costumes or busy in the kitchens, or making finishing touches to the performance platform in.  Yuuri’s mother quickly drafted Viktor into helping with the preparations.

Using the chance, he went back out to the old training area. He didn’t have much longer to practice his elemental teleportation spells, and while he was confident with it, he also proffered having the reassurance that he’d gone over it at the last opportunity. As he worked, running his tongue over the words and moving his hand through the gestures, he cast his mind back to the morning.

Yuuri found himself wishing that he could have taken Viktor to the tomb. There weren’t many people who really understood the magical significance; normal people understood its significance in the decline of magic, the great sacrifice performed by its occupier. Ryûzôji no Dasisuke’s story was repeated in the five-point legend, along with those of Ivan Makovsky, Marie Macpherson, Choi Eun-Yeong, and Amihan Iska Calupitan, but even that didn’t do story of the last Trueborn magicals justice.

 Viktor’s enthusiasm for their craft was contagious, and Yuuri was determined to try and work a visit to the historic site into his visit. He was one of the few who would be able to sense the magic across the site, and Yuuri found himself slightly disappointed that they hadn’t had the chance to see it earlier that day.

There was a festival to prepare for however, and after opening a couple of hours practicing his spells, he returned to help out with the preparations. The onsen was almost ready for the flood of villagers that would be depending upon oil, and the guests were either watching in curiosity, or diving in to help like Viktor.

Bunting hung down from the roof, and from the gates, opposite the stage at the other end of the courtyard, it formed a path down to the village, with posts holding it up every few hundred years, and some torches made of quartz that hummed with Minako-sensei's delicate magic, ready to provide soft lighting once darkness began to fall.

Against one wall was the buffet counter, a huge table where Katsuki Toshiya’s punch, and all the offerings brought by the villagers, and those of his mother’s kitchen were being stockpiled. Most of it would be down at the bonfire, but when the whole island was involved, there was no such thing as ‘ _too much_ ’.

Amongst the hubbub, Yuuri could Viktor him adding some magical sparkle to the curtains of the stage that had been set up, squared off against the back and side engawa, and stopped only to make sure he didn’t look bored or otherwise displeased. He seemed to be having fun though - he and the men helping to construct the framework seemed to have developed some ramshackle sign language.

“Yuuri, could you help me with these trays? I just picked them up from the Yamagato place!” A familiar voice called out. Looking away from Viktor, Yuuri looked to Yuuko; she was carrying a couple of stacked trays filled with the favours that had been made. Each one was filled with bites and nibbles made by the local businesses, and there were a whole two cartsful of the large trays.

Whilst Land Canoes existed on the mainland and on the archipelago, they were expensive, requiring complex magic spells to function. Hasetsu had no need of them. It was only a small island, and most important things could be managed either by boat or horseback, or foot.

Getting to his feet, Yuuri nodded and quickly moved to join his friend; slipping his wand from his arm holster, he glanced to Yuuko. “Where do you want them? Do you want me to move them onto the seats?” He asked, looking to the rows of chairs and benches that had been brought out of storage.

“If you could just stack them to the side? Then everyone can pick one up when things start,” she smiled.

Yuuri nodded, muttering quick words and focusing his magic through the wand until the trays slowly hovered and floated over towards the side of the seating areas one at a time in a stream. They stacked themselves neatly, and Yuuko’s eyes followed then in fascination.

“You were later than usual today - was everything okay this morning?” She asked. “With Viktor? Everyone was wondering where you were, until Jirou saw you both up on the cliff when he went out for the morning squid pots,” she explained.

“I had to do something in the forest, but it’s a surprise for the festival,” he assured her. “Nothing scary, I promise. Viktor tagged along to help and have a look at the forest - he really wants to go see the tomb but that will have to wait for another day.”

“Oh good,” Yuuko said, letting out a sigh of relief. “I was worried - you’ve been so worried about your magic lately. I was scared he’d pushed you, or upset you,” she explained.

“No, not a bit,” Yuuri promised her, frowning as he floated the trays. He could feel himself being watched again. Turning his head, Yuuri looked only for a moment for the eyes that had been following him since the previous night.

As the last of the trays floated gently into place, his eyes fell on a soft bluish light. A Wisp? It looked to be a different colour than usual, lighter. More luminescent. Luckily no one else had noticed it yet, else there would have been some slight discomfort amongst the islanders.

Even Yuuko, who had finished tying down the trays and had climbed up onto a cart full of fruit and treats for the bonfire hadn’t seen it; normally she at the very least sensed the odd spirit that wandered down into the village, but she didn’t even seem to see it. With a shake of the reins, the donkey pulling the cart set off, and she rode right past it.

Yet it continued to hover, seemingly nonplussed. Frowning, and a little unsure as to why the wisp was there, he turned away, and his mind was occupied once again with his plans for the ceremony; he had candles to prepare. They would be handed out to the islanders just before the ceremony, and Yuuri had a few crates of his own to set out at the entrance to the onsen.

“Yuuri!” Viktor called out, making his way over. “The stage crew are finished – do you need help with anything?” He asked. Yuuri blinked and glanced to the wisp again - it had disappeared.

“Can you help me set up these boxes of candles by the entrance? They’re for the parade. I want to put a charm on them so that when they’re lit, the flame won’t burn,” he explained.

Viktor beamed. “It would be my pleasure! I’m so excited to see the festival start! I haven’t been to anything like this since the _Myti_ when I was a child!”

“Is that the water festival they have on the Ny River?” Yuuri asked - he’d read a few paragraphs about it in one of his books, but hadn’t know that Viktor was familiar with the annual ritual. Everyone knew his heritage was Pityerian, but from the way he spoke, Yuuri guessed he was closer to the region that he’d previously though. “Mytitŭržĭstvo?”

Viktor nodded. “It’s mostly just the old tribes that practice it, but we usually had a few people from the city come by,” he said. “I hardly remember them to be honest,” he sighed, lifting a couple of the crates of candles. “I’ve been away for far too long to remember. The celebration itself would be lost on me now.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure how to respond. Viktor had that kind of homesick fondness in his voice that Yuuri knew had been in his while he was training. Should he ask about Viktor’s home before he arrived in Hasetsu? He was very private, and nobody really knew that much.

He had innocuously almost confirmed Yuuri’s guess that he was indeed full Pityerian, but he didn’t dare ask. Viktor was more than entitled to keep his life private. “The last time I was here was when before I left for Érié Strait,” Yuuri said eventually, leading Viktor to the entrance gate. “I’m glad to be back. I’ve missed them.”

“What time does the festival start?” Viktor asked as they set down the crates in a row on each side of the path.

“A few hours before sunset,” Yuuri said. “Let’s get a move on - there plenty still to do.”

And so, they headed back into the onsen, where Yuuri’s mother was already calling for Viktor to cast warming spells on the flood of food emerging from her kitchen. Yuuri meanwhile headed off in search of his father. He still had to go out and speak to the faerie Queen, but first he had to help his father with his costume.

* * *

_But all this was granted for only one millennium; I know my legacy is to fulfil my promise to all my people, who have trusted me._

* * *

The last hour before everyone arrived was hectic, and the hour after even worse. The onsen was crammed with people trying to get a good view of the stage, from all over the island. Yuuri could see the Yamanaka clan who farmed the northern rice fields, the Satsoshi clan who lived near the forest, and made a living of the lumber.

There were even a few members of his own extended family from the Waspian Mainland who visited every year for the national festivals like this.  Then there were the unfamiliar faces; an old man and his granddaughter at the back, and the two women from Iroquois (and their children) who were staying in the onsen right now. It was a hive of activity.

There was something slightly forlorn to this festival however. The Legend had always been told by Fukoshida Hiroshi, and his absence this year was not so much stark, but subtle. Yuuri found himself looking for the man several times, only having to remind himself that his father would be taking over the story telling instead.

“Do you think everything will start soon?” Viktor asked beside him. They were seated between his mother and sister a few rows back from the stage, and the sun was just beginning to set. Yuuri had crept away to speak to the faerie queen only moments ago, and knew that they would be there when the story was over.

Minako’s quartz lights that had surrounded the courtyard dimmed, and suddenly only the evening glow of the sun on its downward journey below the horizon cast a warm low glow on the crowd. Yuuri’s father appeared at the edge of the stage.

“Hello again, it’s wonderful to welcome everyone back to Yutopia Akatsuki!” He called out. “Before we begin the celebrations, I’d like to ask everyone to take up a minute’s silence for Fukushida Hiroshi, who can only be here with us tonight in spirit. For many of us it is the first festival without him in many years, and we would like to hold this small tribute to his memory.” He said sincerely.

There was a chorus of approval, followed by some applause, and Toshiya nodded. “Very well then, my fellow Haseians, to Fukushida Hiroshi!” He called out before bowing his head.

Everyone followed suit, and only the sounds of crickets, night birds beginning their evening hunts, and the rustle of the nearby forest disturbed the silence. When Toshiya and the crowd raised their heads again, there was another round of applause.

“Thank you, my friends! I’ve assisted Hiroshi with the Legend show for over twenty years now, and I can only hope I can do it with as much justice, aplomb and merriment as he did! I’d also like to say thank you to Hiroshi’s children Fukushida Jirou, his daughters Satsuki, Haruka, and Ryōko, as well as his eldest boy Katsuki and his wife Hisoka for helping out with the show!” He said, as a few more faces peeked out from behind the curtains, waving down from the stage. “We will begin momentarily! Thank you for your patience! If anyone hasn’t got a box of favours from the trays at either side of you, please do so now so as not to disturb the seats during the story, or I’ll get my boy to hex you so you can’t sit down, and you can watch from the sides instead!”

There was a chorus of laughter, including Viktor’s, as Yuuri groaned and hid his head in his hands. “Tou-san, I can’t hex anyone! That’s illegal!” He bemoaned, getting more chuckles from his sister beside him as Toshiya disappeared behind the curtain again.

With a bang, smoke began to fill the stage and all the kids in the front few rows began to cry out excitedly. After a few more moments, he reappeared dressed in old-fashioned dress with a conical and armour, like a warrior from a storybook.

“Greetings my good friends!” He called out, with a false gravelly voice. “My name is Geoffrey Monmouth, the founder of the Grand Magic Gala, and magic historian extraordinaire! Today I have been summoned from the depths of Ruthenia’s great and mighty history to tell you the tales of old!” He called out with a flourishing bow, politely removing his plumed helmet as he did.

“Hello Geoff!” The kids called out. Yuuri couldn’t help smiling, remembering when he and his sister used to be sitting at the very front, desperate for good spots to watch the imported spells cast during the storytelling.

“I have many suitable for young and old alike, but I think today is a day for The Tale of the Trueborn Five!”

Yuuri clapped his hands with a smile, as Viktor, his mother, and Mari all clapped their hands above their head and whooped with delight with more enthusiasm than Yuuri could ever hope to dredge up.

“Very well!” ‘ _Geoff_ ’ said with a fake, exaggerated wink. “We shall begin!”

Reaching to one of the bags of powder attached to his belt, he blew it up into the air, and a thick shroud of smoke and dark swirled over the crowds' head, blocking out the light; from a second pouch belt, another of the powders Yuuri had supplied him with drew rumbles and groans of approval as the starts seemed to twinkle down from the shroud. With more of the both upon himself, Geoff himself seemed to become a transparent being of smoke and starlight.

Around them adults passed around hop beer, and other alcoholic beverages, of which Viktor and Yuuri both partook in some elderflower wine.

‘ _Once, a millennium ago, magic was not so rare as it is today. Anyone could use it, and our lands were whole, surrounded by seas and joined together as one,_ ’ the gravelly voice said, seeming to echo through the cloud.  Yuuri looked to Viktor and he winked conspiratorially. A potion to alter his father’s voice. Smiling he turned back to the show.

‘ _There was only one isle in the whole continent, and its name was-_ ’

“Hasetsu!” the crowd roared with whoops of praise and bangs on chairs stomps of feet and clapping of hands.

‘ _Yes, Hasetsu was a land unto its own, and we lived alongside spirits and beasts and the will of the world harmoniously, as did the rest of the future empire_.”

With the gently blowing of another powder into the cloud in front of the stage, all the light from the mass above the crowd faded, reappearing the front, lighting up in the vague shape of an unbroken continent, like a constellation all of its own.

“ _Steorra_ ,” Viktor breathed beside him, and Yuuri could help feeling like he wanted to puff out the feathers on his chest like to blue tits did. The magic in the powders had taken weeks to work out, and he’d worked with his father and Hiroshi to spell the images and scents and sounds they wanted as soon as he had his basic certificates. He’d only been able to see it a couple of times, so when he and his father had started working on it for the Carévič festival, before Hiroshi died, they’d improved a lot of things.

‘ _Before even that, Alayunte and our great empire of Ruthenia were once small countries, separated by many others, but as Ruthenia and its surrounding nations learned peaceful magic, Alayunte became greedy_ ,’ the voice continued, even as a dark green rim, an edge of a land no-one wanted to see encroached the corner of the glittering map of the old world. ‘ _The lands we call home, call our own, did not use violent spells, but Alayunte favoured magic in military force, and used it to conquer, and they also they consumed it, for such was their dependency that they cannot survive without it. Soon the small nations began to fall…_ ’

There was a rapid and unanimous hiss and chorus of boos from the crowd as it grew, the smoke it was formed from seeming to ooze within its boundary of the image. Then the green oozing smoke began to swallow the smaller section of the map, following the vocal prompts.

‘ _Piter, Albion, Batukhan, Vallis Poenina, Říp, Viteilú, even Northern Ruthenia was subjected to Alayunte’s might and indominatable will.  A vast continent three times the size of our small empire, there was no end to their forces_ ’ Geoff said. As he spoke, the green section of Alayunte expanded, growing in size until there was eerie green glow cast across the crowd as it swallowed the glittering map.

‘ _All territories and allies saw the threat that loomed above them, and turned to their own magic for aid, but before they could perfect a spell to banish the intruders from our borders, it was too late. Alayunte’s battle magic was nothing our continent had ever seen, and the soldiers spread across the land, subjugating every corner of the land,_ ’ he continued, the map now completely swallowed, bare one tiny spot on the east, which still glittered the same bright gold as Daisuke’s glow. ‘ _Everywhere except for…?_ ’

“Hasetsu!” the crowd called out again, furious and eager with pride; the loudest voice however came from the Pityerian man beside Yuuri, his eyes fixed and glittering with excitement.

‘ _So far from the main shores, Hasetsu managed to escape occupation, but we were already isolated, and when supplies began to run dry, one brave man took up his wand and with his familiar, and travelled to the mainland,_ ’ Geoff called out, appearing all of a sudden beside one of the Yamanaka kids sitting at the front; Yuuri recognised her because he’d made a potion to help ease her toothache once. She jumped in her seat, but had the stunned awe and glee at being chosen by the storyteller to take part in the tale. ‘ _Do you know his name?_ ’ He asked her.

“Yuuri-drȳmann!” She said immediately, pointing excitedly; a chorus of laughter broke out, and Yuuri had to fight to keep himself from hiding his face again - she was just a child. Beside him Mari was nearly crying with laughter, and Viktor was absolutely sparkling with mirth.

“That’s so cute Yuuri!” He laughed, though like everyone else, it was not unkindly.

‘ _I’m afraid not little one, though I have no doubt this Yuuri you speak of is Hasetsu’s finest magical!_ ’

There was another roar of approval from the crowd, and this time Yuuri _did_ hide his face - of course his father would say that, even when he was in character! Instead of calling him out however, Yuuri instead took a long gulp from the cup of elderflower wine in his hands.

‘ _No, the name of the man I speak of was Ryûzôji no Daisuke!_ ’ Geoff called out, drawing attention back to the front of the stage, where the silhouette of a man in robes with a great archer’s bow had appeared; Katsuki, Hiroshi’s eldest son, using another sneaky powder began to hover, the glow from behind him casting a darker shadow into the smoke. ‘ _He flew through the air without a broomstick for three days and three nights before reaching the cliffs. With the help of his familiar, a creature called Wisp from Middeniht Bēam, he turned himself invisible upon sight of Alayunte’s patrols, and crept secretly into the mainland_ ,’ the storytellers voice said as the figure bent down hand above his eye after landing, as if searching.

Then it feigned shock, hands brought to his lips in dismay. ‘ _What he found in the years since occupation had begun was what could only be called horror and atrocity!_ ’ The smoke which had been golden turned an eerie green once again, and what Yuuri knew to be several more villagers dressed in black with thin swords held flasks to their lips as shadows. ‘ _It seemed as though the violence had turned magic itself against the continent, for none could use their magic but for the Alayunte, who absorbed it greedily! Still hidden, Daisuke used his magic to test the water being given to villages by the Alayunte soldiers, and found it to be a type of Nullification, a permanent type of anti-magic which was rendered the citizens powerless!_ ’

The Daisuke figure reached out his hand, and a simple light trick swirled through the smoke, bringing it back to a bright golden colour. ‘ _He was able to neutralise the water, but to his dismay, he found even the water in the streams and rivers and lakes to be contaminated. Within time, he was sure even the seas would be tainted, and then even Hasetsu would not be safe!_ ’

A hush had started to fall over the crowd as the tale began to unfold by this point, and even Yuuri, who had helped most of the temporary charms, was in awe of how well they mixed into the show, the work put in by the shadow actors and the narration.

‘ _Ryûzôji no Daisuke knew that to help his island, he would have to find a way to remove the foreign invaders, and so he set out on a quest, following rumours and secrets in hope,_ ’ his father’s voice - still gravelly and unfamiliar - said softly. ‘ _He knew that he could not have been the only person to have noticed the poisoned water, and he was right. His gentle natural spells and secret brews were joined by other magics,_ ’ he added even as four more brightly colours glows came with another powder, blown into the smoke. ‘ _Over time he met four others who had also managed to retain their magic. Another brave man from Ruthenia, Ivan Nikiforov-_ ’

“Ivan the Defender!” Viktor called out, gathering several raucous chuckles.

 _‘-Indeed! Ivan had fled from the western edges of the empire and was wanted by Alayuntine forces for his success in preventing the spread of the poison with wordy spells, and visors magical blasts,_ ’ Geoff said, even as Hiroshi’s second son appeared from bright blue glow, his silhouette armour stockier and bulkier, with a broadsword and a wand in hand and long hair swishing.

‘ _He also met Choi Eun-Yeong, a woman from the south east famed for her ability to turn the beasts against the forces who opposed her,_ ’ the storyteller continued, as a woman’s shape against an orange lit backdrop appeared, tall and graceful, the shape of a young dragon on her shoulder, and a faithful hound at her feet. ‘ _She commanded everything from spirits to dragons, and they burned the beasts of men who enslaved her countrymen at her word. Her small spells seemed to fix every problem, and the long intricate spells she cast lasted for decades._ ’

Another woman appeared against a light, pink colour, shorter, with going orbs in their hands to represent her five elements, and from them the smell of clear springs and the sea, petrichor, mown grass, burning campfires, and the metallic scent of iron and rust. ‘ _The second woman was Amihan Iska Calupitan; she was a young girl but her strength was that of the earth, the water, the wind, of fire and the ore of swords! She commanded every element, and like the others had, she used her gifts to protect first her home, before departing on quest to free her homeland from enslavement,_ ’ Geoff introduced her. ‘ _Through her travelled, she had also learned to manifest her powers as the soldiers did, and stop their magic before it had begun,_ ’ following his words, a bright, white light appeared behind the smoke, and another woman appeared, the middle sized of the three, a thick blindfold across her eyes.

‘ _The last, but not the least, was Marie Macpherson. She was blind, and many might have thought her weak, but her sometimes glittering cloudy eyes were her gift; her ability to read the stars and foretelling signs, to know the minds of others, to feel what others felt, had saved the quintuple many times, and no soldier escaped her curses._ ’

The five figures turned to each other, inspective, bowing or shaking hands in greeting, or even high-fives, before the smoke seemed to swallow them, and instead, five bright lights matching those behind them began to swirl amongst the smoke that had covered the sky, above the crowd’s heads.

Then they rushed back to the stage, where in purple light the backdrop of a city and the familiar shape of a huge palace had faded into view, whilst flickers of green surrounded it.

‘ _Together they crept north, to the Imperial City of the Kingdom of Ruthenia, where defences still held, but the surrounding forces were wearing down the walls with every passing day. Sleuthing into the city, they burst through the soldiers that had taken the outer ring, and after six days of battle the city was theirs_.’

The five lights swirled around the castle, like a protective barrier, banishing the green flickering, oozing smoke surrounding it.

‘ _It was not a battle without lost life; many civilians and soldiers had died, as had the Ruthenian King, Queen and Princes. Without stable leadership, the city was hesitant, and in desperation ready to declare their savours their rulers when they explained their plan to stop Alayunte,_ ’ Geoffrey said, his voice strong but face invisible as the story unfolded; beside him Viktor was just as absorbed in the story and show of lights as Yuuri, unable to help the fascination with their magical heritage. ‘ _Instead Marie, placed a deck of cards before the city councillors; the result spoke of their future, and of   another waited to rule and lead them to greatness. A bastard daughter of their former king who had lived a simple but comfortable life in the city. In a humble dressmaker’s shop, she led them to a young girl named Anastasia Fiorina Plisetskaya; she had all the talents of the city rescuers combined, but her magic was waning,_ ’ he added, as the smoke faded to another female slumped prone, weakened, and the five shrouded actors reappeared, surrounding the fourth woman.

‘ _It seemed their search was in vain, for she too had been poisoned by the tainted water. In order to enact their plan, they needed a sixth member of their party, and so Daisuke used every herb and potion he had learned to heal her, to stop the loss of her magic._ ’ The smoke faded for Daisuke’s sparkling gold light to silhouette the man as he tended to the prone woman. As she appeared to grow stronger, her own lilac shimmering light gets stronger, and as she stood, holding his hands, they swirled together, and the two embraced.

‘ _They grew to care for one another. After a month, he succeeded in healing her, and asked her to be his wife. Overjoyed, she agreed, and the two were married in secret, but there was limited place for happiness as yet, and their presence at each other’s side would not save any of their homelands,_ ’ the narrator said, reappearing on stage as the actors disappeared.

“ _And so_ ,” he said as singular orbs of light appeared surrounding a lilac one above the crowd. “ _Marie, Amihan, Eun-Yeong, Ivan, and Daisuke said their farewells to Anastasia,”_ he added, as one by one the different coloured balls disappeared till only violet remained. At the back-left corner, the pink orb reappeared, brighter this time.  “ _Amihan headed southwest. Do you know the name of the land she called home today?_ ” Geoffrey asked the kids.

“Ma’i!” They cried, with equally loud support from the adults, and the two solstice-born watching reverently.

“ _Yes!_ ” Geoffrey grinned, pointing to map where the unbroken land has reappeared, a small pink orb appearing in the area the crowd had identified.

“ _And in the opposite direction,_ ” he continued as an orange light appeared in the back-right corner of the crowd. “ _Eun-Yeong also returned to her home in…?_ ”

“Goryeo!” The crowd cried, and a green orb appeared on the map.

“ _Exactly my friends!_ ” He crowed delightedly, fist pumping the air.

“Oh dear, I think your father had some sake to whet his whistle before the show…” Hiroko sighed, a smile on her face all the same as her husband drew cheers from the crowd with his antics.

“ _Now! I sense some magicals amongst us tonight! Viktor-drȳmann, could you perhaps tell us where Ivan headed?_ ” Geoffrey called out; every head in the crowd turned towards Viktor.

Beside Yuuri, the older man paused putting a finger to his lips, as if deep in thought. He was completely enthralled in the show. “To his home amongst the old river tribes, I think north of Dominicus then,” Viktor called out, cheerful and enthusiastic, as if he’d just been struck by inspiration.

“ _Indeed!_ ” Geoff grinned; a blue orb appeared on the map directly to the north, and one above the stage. The mood set, the storyteller disappeared once again, and the lights got brighter, the smoke darker, and the eerie green glow on the map more ominous.

‘ _Marie travelled east,_ ’ he continued, a white orb appearing on the left side of the courtyard, closer to the stage, and a soft spot likewise on the map. ‘ _to her homeland of Albion, and finally, Daisuke turned west,_ ’ he said as a final golden appeared on the right, and on the single island on them smoke formed map.  ‘ _He travelled farthest, across the many miles, across the dancing sea to-_ ’

“Hasetsu!” Roared the crowd of villagers,

Beside him, Viktor too had called out, but the abrupt change in noise levels had given him pause. The villagers around them were on their feet, Yuuri included, cheering, and some of the adults even had their cups of elderflower wine, hop-beer, and umeshu raised in a toast that hadn’t been called for, but was eagerly given anyway.

‘ _Yes, he returned here, walked these paths, and lived in these halls, waiting for news, for the signal to enact their plan!_ ’ Geoffrey said, as the image of the map faded, and Daisuke appeared on the stage, his swirling golden light taking have the screen of smoke. He sat reading a letter whilst, on the other half, of the stage the lilac shade began to appear. It met his golden colour at the edges once again, and the image of Anastasia appeared again, this time with the obvious bulge of pregnancy. ‘ _He also received a secret message from his betrothed, informing him that she was with child. Not even a month had passed when Imbolc arrived. On the same day that his beloved felt the pains of labour begin, the moon travelled in front of the sun, shrouding the world in darkness; his sign had arrived. With a good bye to his family, he marched into Middeniht Bēam with Wisp at his side._ ’

As the narrator spoke the lights and sparkle of the smoke dimmed and faded, casting the crowd into the greenish, grimy darkness but for the five glowing lights

‘ _At five corners of the world, his friends too had chosen the sites of their efforts. Each had several trials before they reached their goal, but those are different tales,_ ’ Geoffrey said. Instead of expanding on these tales, the bright golden orb that represented Daisuke began to shine brighter, reaching out to the other four.

‘ _Daisuke’s natural magic reached into the earth to prepare it, to link his power to that of his comrades. Ivan powerful spells gave their work the strength it needed to reach around the world, and though celestial miles of magic. Eun-Yeong spread her powers through the beasts and spirits of the wild, carrying it even further,_ ’ Geoff continued as the other orbs began to link up, each one glowing brighter and reaching out to its companions, forming an obvious pentagram. ‘ _Amihan used unparalleled elemental magic to pass it through the core of the land, through its streams and seas, its forests, and her fiery determination pushed it to the ends of the earth. Marie too used her sight and knowledge of the future to guide their powers together, to make it all connect as the spell began._ ’

Images appeared again of the Alayuntine soldiers, a crowd of people broad and tall, seeming to grow and grow as the story continued. ‘ _The soldiers of Alayunte had never lived in an environment where magic was so prevalent around them._ ’ The smoke had lowered to surround the crowd, making it almost to see seat mates as it surrounded the crowd as more eerie images appeared of the Alayuntians. ‘ _Their awful powers had always been internal, and so the free ability to absorb magic had given them superior strength. The five knew that their countrymen, so many poisoned by the soldiers, stood no chance with their land imbalanced. If Alayunte had taken our lands by the open nature of our magic, then the solution was to take it away._ ’

The five orbs of light flared, beginning to filter through the smoke.

‘ _Using their powers, Marie sent a message to every man woman and child to warn them of the impending magical blast, bidding the Non-Alayunte citizens to take shelter,’_ Geoffrey said, as snatches of white glittering light shot out from the white orb to each villager, bursting over their heads with gentle scents of honey and vanilla, glittering like starlight as they fell. ‘ _And so, it began; Amihan followed the guides Marie had given her, and borrowed Ivan’s sheer strength. With great power, the soldiers across the country fell to their knees as they were rendered powerless, and the earth began to shake!_ ’

With those words, the pentagram began to lower amongst the crowd too, and as it did the images of the soldiers, multiplied from the stage by the smoke to appear and many began to react in fear, falling, covering their heads, sinking, and otherwise showing defeat. As they were swallowed by pink and blue light.

Around the audience, the rumble of the earth and scent of smoke, the crash of the waves, clang of swords, and howl of the wind seemed to echo as some musicians with handmade instruments played the sounds to match the magical words.

‘ _Eun-Yeong cast a gentle and intricate spell, using her animal companions across the continent once again to carry it far and wide._ ’ An orange collection of lights shot from the corresponding orb as the pentagram continues to shine, and the howl of a wold and roar of a dragon were only some of the sounds that cried out as they rushed to the violet central light.  ‘ _She cast a spell that anchored the magical circle to Princess Anastasia amidst her labour pains, to her unborn child, and all of their descendants_.’

For a moment, the golden orb began to shine brighter, its trails connecting to the others steadily shining more and more.

‘ _Daisuke spoke to magic itself, guided it, and with great effort, imbued their spell into the core of it, sending the effects across the continent!_ ’ The narrator said as the map appeared again, this time amid the smoke that surrounded the crowd. ‘ _It was a small price to pay for the lives and legacies of families for the days and years and centuries to come. The moon fuelled Daisuke’s power, and the spell took its effect as our five heroes focused their magic together, spilling it to the farthest reaches of the land!_ ’ Geoff cried as slowly all of the other coloured orb began to likewise increase their brightness.

' _The earth began to shake so much even the rivers and lakes shook in fear of the great quake that tore through the landscape. The mountains groaned as the shifted, trees clung to the shifting earth with desperate roots, and everyone who had heard Marie’s message took shelter on high ground,_ ’ he said as the rumbles and scent of earth grew. ‘ _The poisoned waters rose and sunk, churned and swirled in typhoons, rain and snow. great whirlpools appeared in the seas, and The Alayuntine soldiers, who had not, perished under the great waves that swallowed earth, the rockfalls that were triggered, and thunderous lightning storms ravaged the lands._ ’

The images of the soldiers, still showing faintly, were completely burned away as the five orbs surrounding the crowd slowly began to melt but for five small points upwards into an opalescent, multi-coloured filigree, each stand as fine as a hair and a bright as diamond.

‘ _From where the five magicals stood steadfast in their efforts, a great web of magic grew and surrounded Ruthenia even as it shifted, and it continued to so for fourteen days and nights.  Over a course of two weeks, Daisuke, Marie, Eun-Yeong, Ivan, and Amihan performed feats of Magic the likes of which have never been seen since,_ ’ Geoff said, his voice building as within the web, the projection of the old continent began to break away in pieces, until only the familiar picture of the Ruthenian Empire remained. ‘ _As the waters were purified of Alayunte’s Nullification, they cracked our world to save our ancestors, and reformed magic itself so that our enemies could never take advantage of us again!_ ’

The crowd cheered with the blast of light that began as the end of the narrator’s story began to unfold, until he appeared again.

“ _There was, of course, a price to pay for their efforts - magic heeded their call but not without compensation_ ,” he said solemnly, as the five silhouettes appeared behind their corresponding glows onstage. “ _On the fourteenth day, exactly at midnight, all of the magic they possessed disappeared into the web, taking with it their breath of life,”_ he said, the glows starting to dim. “ _As the web coalesced and exploded like Fireworks over Ruthenia, Daisuke, Marie, Eun-Yeong, Ivan, and Amihan all collapsed to the ground, finally spent from their efforts and accomplished in their task.”_

Yuuri didn’t have to look at his mother and sister to know this was the part where they always burst into tears; he had to wipe away a few of his own. A glance beside him, and he could see thin, silent streams glittering like tiny rivers forming on Viktor’s cheeks too.

The lights dimmed in a snap, timing perfectly to the words echoing around them, before the net itself began to curl inwards into a ball, one which shot into the heart of the single lilac orb that remained, glowing like a heart made of starlight within it.

“ _Their last magic spread across the world, sweeping the lands like a wave before rushing to the centre, to Dominicus, and in to the body of Ruthenia’s new Queen. No longer could the remaining soldiers or our ancestors use magic as freely as before, but there was hope, and our ancestors took it up; With patience and kindness, our ancestors adapted to the new way of the world.  The few remaining soldiers were expelled from the lands by the regrouped Ruthenian armies and slowly the countries who had been enslaved rebuilt themselves_ ,” the storyteller said, as the map reappeared, back amongst the now star-studded smoke above the audience; as it did small blot of lilac grew in, outlining the empire in all its glory.

“ _Ruthenia, once a tiny kingdom, grew, and over time Anastasia Plisetskaya, the mother of the Plisetsky Dynasty, came to rule as not a queen, but as the first Caríca of the Ruthenian Empire. “Geoffrey_ continued, as the lilac backed silhouette appeared. “ _And as the world was split, she gave birth to twins, and the world changed again at their birth._ ” He said as two small children joined their mother in the scene displayed beside him, a boy and a girl.

“ _The weather aligned strangely to the birth of the Carévič and Carévna, and elsewhere babies born also changed the weather patterns in their area,”_ he continued, as the children in the image cast sparkles and glowing trails of magic as they played. “ _They were slightly different, there something special about them, and over time, it became obvious that magic may be different, but it was not lost. These children were the first solstice born._ ”

As Geoffrey spoke, the light and smoke began to fade, returning slowly to normal. As the clouds above the courtyard began to dissipate, the sun had reached the horizon, and had almost fallen below the far-off border.

“ _There are many versions of this story, and we may never know the true tale, but we know the importance of magic and how it supports us,”_ Geoffrey continued, “ _We also know the danger of depending too much on its assistance. The Solstice Born we know today are living memories of the sacrifices our ancestors, and guardians to their will. The spell cast by Daisuke, Marie, Eun-Yeong, Ivan, and Amihan lives on today, and is still solidifying, permanently marking itself into our world; in 231 years, it will be permanent,_ ” he said.

“ _Until then, the magic is sustained and protected from through the line of Anastasia Plisetskaya and her children. Should the Plisetsky line ever fall before the spell solidifies, so will their magic, and as magic returns to the land so will the magic ravenous Alayunte. So craven for magic, they will never stop searching for it, but as long as the Five Cardinal Points – the tombs of our ancestral heroes – remain intact, and the spell circle safe in the Plisetsky line, our borders will never fall!”_

The cloaked man turned, casting another puff of smoke. It swallowed the hole stage for several moments, before dissipating, revealing the actors gathered upon the boards, behind the kind-faced, familiar Katsuki Toshiya. They bowed low to the chorus of whoops and loud applause from the whole courtyard.

“That is why we celebrate our solstice born, and our Imperial Family!” Yuuri’s father grinned. “And so, without further ado, let the festivities for Carévič Yuri’s tenth Birthday celebrations begin!”

* * *

_The Gods will approve of us still._

* * *

The crowds gathered upon the stage to congratulate the cast, but Yuuri had to hurry to the onsen entrance. The candles were waiting in their boxes, exactly where he and Viktor had left them, and with gently charm he set them alight with painless flame, and let them gently float out towards the villagers as the parade began.

The floats and puppets held by the villagers represented the stories of the five heroes in the Trueborn Legend, and the first was the float showing the feats of Ivan the Defender. There were even smaller floats for the Kikimora and Vodyanoi he battled on the way to his Five-Point zone. There were more floats for the other historical figures too, and Yuuri had to be quick to get the candles out before everyone started out for the bonfire.

Luckily his father was still on the stage, and at his behest, nobody questioned the candles magically floating infant of them. That left him plenty of time to speak to the faerie queen again, and for her to summon her hive just in time for the first float.

With trails of glowing coloured lights in their wake they surrounded the floats interweaving amongst them, dropping their glittery dust over the villagers as they began to march behind and around the floats into the village centre.

Making his way through the flood of people, he soon found Viktor with his parents and sister, right in the middle behind the float behind ‘ _Ivan’s Lost Vila_ ’ float. Catching sight of Yuuri in the excitement, he waved frantically. “Yuuri! This is amazing! I’ve never seen The Last Trueborn Legend shown so wonderfully!” he cried, and Toshiya handed Yuuri an earthenware bottle.

“You can thank Yuuri for all the special effects Vicchan!” He said, only a slight slur on the endearing nickname Viktor had somehow gained. Yuuri wondered how they were going to tell him apart from the real Vicchan as he took a drink of the elderflower wine.  “He started them when he was certified, and we’ve been working on them with Hiroshi since he came home! I just wish he could have been here to see it too! He’d have been so proud Yuuri - we’ve missed you!”

Viktor’s eyes only grew wider and more excited. “That was your magic? Oh Yuuri! That was beautiful! The way the smoke projected everything and brought up the sounds and smells too! That was _real_ magic! The amount of time it must have taken! You have to show me how to do that!”

“You need ten years more Potioneering and Wiccan training!” Yuuri teased, as his father slung an arm around Viktor’s neck.

“A toast!” Toshiya crowed. “To my boy! And to Hiroshi! And not forgetting our youngest Carévič! Kanpai!”

There was an echo of the toast by not only the villagers around them but those inside the floats, and some of the people further behind them. Yuuri laughed, and let himself be dragged into the huddle. They ambled down the hill singing along when the islanders holding up the floats began the paeans of Ivan’s tale.

The trip down the hill to the village was winding and every inch and been lined with posts and bunting - the Ruthenian flag, Hasetsu’s flag, the crest of the imperial family (and to Yuuri's embarrassment, his triquetra). The tiny flags hung from each of the large posts and their soft orange crystals (courtesy of Minako-sensei), some of the faeries had darted on ahead, seating themselves between them.

Another tinkling swarm flitted ahead with some of the children, paling a game of chase, catch, and release that no adult could possibly comprehend; they also let dust fall and gently with their kind magic prevented trips and falls for their young charges.

By the time they reached the centre of the village where the bonfire waited to be lit the stalls were set up and lit with more glowing quartz. The faeries that had lit the parade slowly took places around the counters, especially when they caught sight of more of the sweet potion in small dishes. Yuuri and Viktor had both made sure each one of the stalls and stands had a small bowl so that their tiny helpers didn’t feel left out, or go hungry with their hard work.

Some of the local squid buns were piled up, ready to. Go in one stand, and whole boxes of fat potatoes stood waiting to be baked in the flames of the bonfire, parsnips soaked in honey, huge bowls of salads, plates of blini, mushed peas, and sweets stalls with molten chocolate, vanilla and other delicious scents filled the air as they reached the square, opposite the dock.

The large human-operated puppets and floats danced in a circle around the crowd, weaving in amongst them and the musicians, who added their songs to the hive of energy, creating a different sound for each story as it unfolded.

One of the actors moving the Kikimora let out a shrill cry as garmoshka, svirel, balalaika, and volynka played a daring and soulful, deep accompaniment for the Ten Trials of Ivan as he battled through the Pityerian Plains, meeting friend and foe, and losing his love to an unattainable spirit, who appeared as dancers amongst the crowd, ghostlike as all the stories told.

Janggu, pyeongyeong, hun, bipa, and haegeum followed taking over with the roar of Eun-Yeong’s dragon familiar from Eun-Yeong’s Seven Beasts made their way forward; the kite based samjoko soaring through the air as if it had real wings, and the growl of the haetae sounded as real as Vicchan’s barks.

The sounds of kubing, dabakan, palendag, and sarunay gave life to the story of Amihan and The Volcano Who Grew Cold; drumbeats beat out the rumbles of a volcano as a stream of silk spilled from the top of another, glittering and flowing warm amongst the villagers surrounding it, dissolving with the brightness of true lava.

The cheerful and melancholy sounds of Fiddles, bagpipes, flutes, bells, and crwth brought forth the high islands of Albion as Marie’s eyes were lost to the future, and the Secrets of The Constellations swirled past the crowd as bright and glittering as the true stars above their heads.

Finally, taiko, ōtsuzumi, biwa, and shinobue told the story of Ryûzôji no Daisuke, Hasetsu’s first magical, rumoured to be the Katsuki clan’s ancestor, and the Threefold Spell of Middeniht Bēam.

The sounds and buzz were a full energy that was twice as heady as the sweet, fresh wine somebody (probably Viktor or Toshiya) handed Yuuri another bottle of.

The mass of people made their way towards the dock, where the first rocket was set to launch. the rest of the rockets attached around the island were timed with Yuuri’s magic to it. The large, dragon-headed projectile was currently tied to the top of the bonfire on a shaft.

When it launched, it would light the bonfire, the fireworks display would be released and the celebrations would officially begin.

The crowds had come in from all over the island for the parade, and as the rest of the floats settled around the bonfire in a ring, leaving space for dancing between, the cheers and drumming claps grew louder and louder.

Somehow, Yuuri managed to stumble through the throng of people as he saw Toyomura-san, Yuuko’s mother ascend a raised platform where the musicians had congregated.

Raising her hands for silence, the musicians picked up a proud song just as Yuuri made it to the same platform. The familiar tune of the local song came in as he began the gestures and hand movements for the elemental transmutation spell. Working through the hand signals, as the song ended, the flickering lights of the candle began to soar in flickering ribbons between the islander’s heads.

As the lights headed towards Yuuri, leaving the dark of the night sky behind, a new song began. More majestic than the first, the words of the anthem came to Yuuri’s lips even as he concentrated, as easily as his island song had done. The building crescendo of the song matched the ribbons of candle fire, and as a tiny ball of light built up in Yuuri’s hands the song reached its peak.

In the final chords, he concentrated his magic, muttering the words that would vanish it from them; instantaneously, it appeared in a burst of winged ‘faeries-shaped flames that swirled the bonfire.

Delicately with one finger, the phantom fire figure reached out a finger to the rockets fuse. It screeched as the sparks from the fuse burned and flew down to the bonfire, setting it alight just as it lifted off, whisking up into the air with a whistle louder than the cry of any banshee.

There was a moment of silence, and an intake of breath from everyone in the crowd, eyes skyward. Then, with a huge bang and crackle, the sky fractured into a miasma of coloured sparks. Consecutive rings erupted with images of the heroes from the stories, all surrounding a multi-coloured image of the imperial crest.

The crowd cheered as the rest of the fireworks began to launch with the fading sparks, ensuring a constant stream of colour and bright light for the rest of the night. The musicians struck a new tune, bright and cheery, and the old man Yuuri had seen with his granddaughter earlier appeared beside Viktor.

The man offered him a hand down from the stage, and Yuuri took it without a second thought, giving him some quick thanks. Viktor beamed, and held out, another of the small handsome bottles of elderflower wine.

“This is amazing Yuuri!” He cried excitedly. “There’s so much and that spell was wonderful! Promise me you’ll show me how to do it!”

“I promise to try, but I don’t think I can do that again for a while!” Yuuri said, a little louder. “That kind of control isn’t easy to keep up! I was sweating the whole time!” He said, trying to catch his breath and they headed through the crowds toward the bonfire.

The festivities were frolicking around them, and Yuuri didn’t want to miss a single moment.

* * *

_The mountains so high and waters deep are her disguise; her secrets are safe from foreign hands and eyes forever._

* * *

The night went on as all festivals would; excited but still somewhat restrained as the first traditional dances from Ma’i and Goreyeo were performed, before giving way to the faster group ones. Many of the villagers were sucked into one of their local ones as Yuuri led Viktor through every stall and every stand of games and entertainment.

They tried the food, mixing the and bottles of honey mead and elderflower wine were freely given amidst the games and smaller circles that had gathered to tell the smaller legends of the five true born. Viktor was quickly persuaded into telling the story of the Ten Trials of Ivan by a group of slightly tipsy villagers and excited children, and Yuuri was dared in to make smoky pictures as he spoke.

Viktor threw himself into the story, excited and eager with his words, before they began to wander around. They played games, tossing rings for prizes, catching goldfish, and all the other activities that came with festivals.

After Viktor came out of the ring throwing booth with a new plush of the local Wisps, and they sat down at the edge of the fire to eat. The roasted potatoes were hot and steaming in the chilly, new, evening march air, smothered in butter, salt, pepper and mushed peas, and absolutely delicious eaten like burgers in their toasted skins.

After they had eaten, and sat some distance away from the dancing as the islanders danced around bamboo poles (one of the many fast-paced Ma’i-style dances being held that night), they somehow got onto the subject of Unicorns, and Yuuri confessed with tears in his eyes that his biggest regret from Parthenope was that he hadn’t been able to catch a wild one to take home on the air frigate for him.

“They’re so cool Viktor! And we don’t have Land Canoes in Hasetsu! Or even Land Frigates!” He sniffed as they ambled past to one of the tables set up some ways back from the bonfire. Further down Yuuko and her brother were dancing on it, and it shook with the pound of their footsteps a little.  They’d obviously been into the family Hindberge liqueur. “But Unicorns can carry so much, and they’re so fast, and their manes are worth six times what my onsen makes in a month, and they’re in all my arthritic potions! You can catch them for free in Parthenope and I missed my chance Viktor! I’ve missed it! I’m a disgrace! I bet Daisuke would have caught one!”

“Then when we go to Manchuria for your qualifiers we’ll find you a unicorn there Yuuri!” Viktor declared. “I swear it! We’ll get as many as you like! A whole herd of unicorns!” He said.

“We’re going to Manchuria?” Yuuri blinked.

“If you want to compete in the gala!” Viktor beamed, pouring a bottle of umeshu into his tankard of honey-mead. “I’ve always wanted to go to Manchuria! My grandparents live there you know? I miss them! I haven t seen them for so long - would you visit with me?” He asked after a long draught.

“If you want to visit your Ealdmóder and Ealdefæder then I’ll go compete I think I want to!” Yuuri nodded, he drained his bottle of elderflower wine, and began to potter with some of the things lying around, throwing them into a bowl.

“Yuuri, I don’t know what those words mean!” Viktor said, leaning his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder as he peered down at the hodgepodge of ingredients. “What are you making?” Viktor asked around a mouthful of potato; Viktor’s was covered in tiny chunks of the local squid in a peppery sauce.

“Something to help the shy kids,” Yuuri nodded, looking towards a group of teenagers hovering nervously at the edge of the circle of dancers surrounding the bonfire. “I made it last time I had a festival, my thirteenth solstice,” Yuuri said. “You get wine, like this,” he explained holding up his bottle and attempting to pour it into the bowl; when he found it empty (when did he finish it?) Viktor kindly sacrificed his own bottle. Emptying the replacement, Yuuri then leaned back and picked up his herb bag - no witch or Potioneer would ever leave their home without it, no matter what the occasion.

“Then you get pine nuts, pine oil, fennel seeds, and powder them,” Yuuri said, crushing the dry I gradients together in his hands with a surge of magic, adding it to the wine. “Then the oil, here, tear this up for me,” he said digging around in his bag again and producing some dried ivy leaves. “As tiny pieces as you can!”

Viktor nodded, using a flare of his own magic to separate the dried leaves even further after crumbling them into fragments with his fingers. “Alright, now stir it with your fingers,” Yuuri said, leaning over and placing the bowl in Viktor’s lap after he had added the ivy leaves.

Viktor did so, and then Yuuri stopped his hand. “Not the ingredients!” He blurted. “The magic, stir the _magic_ , blend it together! Let yours draw it out like a magnet, and just stir,” he corrected, taking hold of the imperial advisor’s hand and dunking the whole thing in. “You’ve got to get your hands messy with this.”

“It feels like Makkachin’s tongue-slime Yuuri!” Viktor whined. “Why are potions so messy? Can’t I use a spoon for this? I can use spoons for cooking!”

“Suck it up, this is Potioneering not cooking; besides, it’s working. It’ll thin out in a moment,” Yuuri said, with no sympathy whatsoever; instead he was watching Viktor’s expression as he worked, the widening eyes shock and surprise as the slugged began to transform into a glittering crystal-clear liquid swirled with a shimmering sunny yellow.

“Yuuri! It changed colour!” Viktor exclaimed triumphantly, awe inspired all over again, as if he had never seen a potion before. Yuuri figured it was the four pints of honey-mead mixed with Umeshu and however much of the Toyomura clan’s Hindberge liqueur he’d had.

“Well, yes, but whether it actually works or not is debatable - sometimes I get a wonky batch and you just feel like you’ve swallowed six bottles of sake the next day. Stars only know what you’ve come up with,” he teased.

“Yuuri! I managed the boil cure!”

“And I’m very proud of you; well?” He prompted staring at the bowl pointedly. “You can’t give it to the kids until you’ve taste tested it yourself to check its safe. That’s illegal.”

Viktor stared at Yuuri then to the bowl nervously.  For a moment, he brought it to his lips, then looked at his tankard. Finally, he held it out to Yuuri instead. “You made it too,” he said, trying not to look as nervous (it didn’t work).

Yuuri laughed and took hold of the bowl, taking a quick couple of gulps. “Relax, I’m not so drunk I’d let you drink something dangerous, I ’m good at holding it when I want to,” he said handing the bowl back to Viktor. “This is pretty good.”

Viktor took a mouthful and his face lit up. “This potion! It that… it tastes like sweets and…”

“Fun? It should do. It’s called the Essence of Bakkheia for a reason. Or Essence of Gálnes. Or Frivolity, I can’t pick a name until I get it right all the time and at the moment every one-in-three is dodgy,” Yuuri said. “Let’s go give it out before they start the Albish dances! Those are my favourites, and I’m not missing them.”

“Yes! I love them too! They’re so lively! Then can we have some more of your mother’s katsudon?” Viktor asked, his eyes shining hopefully. “I’ve been dreaming of it since we had dinner at the onsen the other day and can smell it!”

“You and me both,” Yuuri said, stumbling to his feet and holding out a hand to Viktor to help him up. “Teach me the Pityerian ones and we have a deal!”

“Of course, they’re not difficult at all! I’m sure you’ll have no problems with them! You’re a wonderful dancer Yuuri!”

How Viktor knew that Yuuri was a good dancer he had no idea, but maybe Minako-sensei had told him. Before he left to train with Celestino-sensei, she had drilled him in nearly every kind of formal dancing she knew so he didn’t end up making a fool of himself at IMSA events. Yuuri wondered if she somehow already knew he would need up at the Celebration Festival in Parthenope - she had mastered Divination.

Whatever the reason she had, it served Yuuri very well now; after dispensing the potion to some of the eager kids, Viktor led him by the hand into the circle surrounding the bonfire.

“Yuuri! Yuuri! There’s someone-”

Yuuri barley had a moment to his sister as she called out from somewhere in the crowd; the music had begun. Viktor reached his left arm around his shoulder, and Yuuri met it with his left hand. Both right hands connected in front of them as the musicians struck up a jaunty tune.

Marching forward and turning the warmth of the bonfire began to warm them. The towering flames licked and caressed the wooden logs piled inside it until they were white hot cinders, sparking up towards the steady stream of fireworks above the dancers.

The music swirled with the flames as they made their way around them in that hold, occasionally parting and skipping around in smaller circles with two hands joined as aides and two more around each other shoulders and waist.

A few logs shifted, sending a shower of tiny red sparks from the flames around the dancers, but they were no bother; the fire was spelled to be painless, and if one looked closely, even the flames themselves seemed to be merry and laughing as they burned, flickering up towards the stars with faerie-like, orange wings.

It was a night for laughing, good food, storytelling, dancing and smiles, and it did not fail to disappoint.

* * *

_Preserve El Dorado! The magnificent and golden, and I believe they will._

* * *

When Yuuri awoke, it was to the sound of gulls squawking overhead, and a cheerfully bright blue morning sky, its endless clouds stretching out over the sea.

It didn’t take long to close his eyes again. his memory of the night before was dim at best, and after fumbling around his head, he also realised that he was missing his hat, cloak and shirt. He smelled rather profusely of smoky bonfire and elderflower wine, and he felt as though he was walking on a boat in the middle of a typhoon.

Furthermore, he was not in the onsen, but slumped next to Viktor amongst some lobster pots with what looked like another triangular blanket, and what seemed to be several stuffed squid from the games stalls. He could smell the tang and salt of the morning catch as it was hauled in further down the dock, and beside him Viktor was snoring utterly peacefully, cowlick on his fringe, drooling a little, with yet another triangular blanket.

There was also someone talking to them.

“…yman? Yuuri-drȳmann!”

“…mmm?” Yuuri blinked. He cracked open an eye and groaned at the unsympathetic glare of sunlight before it was blocked out by the face of Takako, the delivery girl who looked both confused as to what to do, or breaking into fits of hysterics. “…ah’m awake,” he grunted, scrambling and rolling out of Viktor’s limpet-like grip.

Slipping on some of the pots, he somehow managed to sit up.

“Sorry Takako-chan,” he apologised, shielding his eyes as he looked up from the stone of the quay. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, the guys from the boats wanted to leave you be but…” Takako handed him a letter. It took several moments for Yuuri to figure out that not only was he still somewhere between drunk and hung over, but that he’d also lost his glasses, and could see more than an inch in front of his face.  By the time he managed to hold the address up to his face and realise that it was covered in silver ink. “…when they saw it, they insisted I wake you! They said silver ink is really important for solstice-born! I’m so sorry!”

Silver ink? Silver ink. _The IMSA!_ Nearly tearing the letter in half in his haste to open it, Yuuri scanned the letter, peering closely and beginning to mutter swear words under his breath, before blurting his best out completely, and scrambling to his feet.

 _The Potioneering Renewal Assessments!_ Chris had mentioned it offhand in his letter about a witchcraft apprenticeship, but Yuuri completely forgotten it was this week!

His licence was due for renewal, and while his research project and notes were ready to be presented, all the excitement of the festival and Viktor’s impromptu arrival had thrown it from his mind.

He had to get to Mueang by midnight tomorrow or he’d lose his licence for the next two years!

“D’arvit!” He yelped, slipping on the wet stone but otherwise getting to his feet. “Viktor! _Steorra_ , Wake up! We have to get back to the Pharmakeia! We have to pack!” He called out trying to shake his friend awake. “D’arvit! D’arvit! D’arvit!”

“Mngh? Yuuri?” Viktor asked, before groaning and curling in on himself. “Yuuri, why are you awake?”

“Get up! We need to pack and fly to Mueang! Today! I have to get to Song Khwae!” Yuuri said, shaking Viktor a little more violently - he’d have hauled him to his feet, but even though Yuuri was taller than many people on the island, he was still a head shorter than Viktor.

“But why?”

“Because if I don’t present my research project to the committee I’ll lose the slot for approval and I’ll lose my Potioneering certification!” Yuuri blurted. “I’d have to close my Pharmakeia! Get up! Up, up up!”

Viktor grand, but managed to roll over and stumble to his feet. “Oh, the harbour?” He mused, looking around. “Hello there!” He smiled at Takako, who stared at the magic legend dumbest. “Never fear Yuuri! I’ll help - though if you happen to have any hangover cures, I’d be much better equipped to assist you with your endeavours.”

“I don’t make hangover cures on principle, unless there’s a doctor recommendation and even then, I only make them once; if I made them all the time people would just drink themselves into oblivion and expect me to cure them.” Yuuri grunted, shielding his eyes from the glare, and grabbing hold of Viktor’s shoulder. “You’ll have to show me the way, I’ve lost my glasses, and I can’t see,” he said.

“You can’t make an eye potion to cure your eyesight?” Viktor asked as Yuuri started to walk, grabbing hold of him and directing him back towards the shore instead of off the quay and into the cheerful morning waves. “Not that way! Not unless you want to try swimming.”

“I can, I just don’t want to, I like my glasses!”

After some awkward navigation and energetic waves from the fishermen - who had seen the aftermath of a Hasetsu festival too many a time to be surprised by their presence or sensitive state - they made it to the end of the pier. Getting back up the hill to the Pharmakeia was a bit more difficult, because the sun was getting higher, and they kept having to stop to recover from the glare of the sun in their eyes.

“I’ve never felt this awful after drinking in my life, what did I have last night?” Viktor nearly cried.

“I can’t remember,” Yuuri groaned, before daring to open his eyes again. What had he drunk? He remembered the elderflower wine and eating potatoes. He was sure he did some dancing too, but after that it was a blur.

Suddenly a familiar scent reached his nose and despite being blind and extra sensitive to sunlight, it drew his attention back to his task. “I recognise the smell of the Ălyssŏm growing by my Pharmakeia. We can make it back, never mind not making hangover cures, I might have to. I can’t fly like this…” Yuuri mumbled.

“How are you going to fly when you can’t see?” Viktor asked, hauling himself to his feet.

Yuuri had to think. “I don’t actually know yet, I might have to get you to make me a temporary eye potion. I can hardly see to stir anything that complex,” he sighed, just imagining how that might play out.

Looping his arm around Yuuri’s shoulder, Viktor slowly guided him back up the hill. “Yuuri, I have a confession to make, before you gave me help with it, I’d already blown up the boil cure,” Viktor said as they came into sight of the building, surrounded by Matsurika, Woodbine, Kaoriendō and the thick, rich, sweet-scented Ălyssŏm. “There’s no way I can make an eye potion!”

“You have to or we can’t fly to Song Khwae!”

“We?” Viktor blinked, stopping at the gate. “You want me to come with you? Does that mean…?

“I do remember agreeing to go to Manchuria with you during the gala qualifiers, and Yuuko keep telling me I’m honest when I drink,” Yuuri said, trying not to seize up or throw up when Viktor threw his arms around him in excitement.

“Yuuri! You won’t regret it I promise! I know its late but I have faith in you! I’m so excited! I’m so glad you’re going to compete again!” He cried joyfully. “I promise, it won’t interfere with your Pharmakeia either! It’s far too important!

“Viktor!”

After disengaging himself from the not unwanted, bit perhaps poor timed affection, Yuuri managed to open the gate and amble up the fate and up to the door behind Yuuri. The familiar building was easier to navigate, and he didn’t need victor’s help anymore.

Well, in theory. In practice, stumbling around the tables in the brewery whilst half blind and with a hangover was much harder than when he simply forgot to put his glasses on in the morning. He fumbled around in the covers, peering and squinting at the labels in hopes of finding an eye potion that would match his eye diagnostics, but he’d used the last one for his hunting trip in the Říp Mountains.

“It’s no use,” Yuuri said after a few minutes of rooting around in the last of his storage cupboards. “You’re going to have to make the potion Viktor, I can’t see a thing and I don’t have any spare- Viktor?”

Looking up, Yuuri couldn’t see his fellow solstice-born anywhere. Checking around the brewery and the room where he had his service window, and sometimes brought private clients into. Then he grappled his way along the engage and back into his own part of the house.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked, going to the door, perplexed by his friend’s sudden disappearance. “Are you in-”

Yuuri froze after stepping into the room, the door sliding shut all by itself as Yuuri stared at the three-people standing in front of the sorcerer, who was kneeling respectfully on the floor.

The smallest barley came to Yuuri’s waist, and his long blonde hair was as immaculately cut as the silken Pityerian tunic and shorts he wore. Beside him was a taller boy with dark hair, perhaps the boy’s own age, perhaps slightly older, with a uniform in a Batukese style.

Finally, Yuuri looked at the aged man with greying black hair and kind, but weary, solemn eyes that only a small child would fail to recognise.

Dropping down on one knee and lowering his head, Yuuri held on arm behind his back, holding it along his spine, and the opposite arm across his front, fist placed over his heart; his pose was an identical match to Viktor’s, and internally he was shaking like a leaf.

Despite the false composure, his mind was spinning; Cěsarĭ Nikolai and Carévič Yuri were standing in his apothecary, and he had absolutely no idea why.

Maybe he was still drunk after all.

* * *

_El Dorado!El Dorado! El Dorado!_

* * *

This chapter feels like Bonfire Night, UK street parties, Japanese festivals, Chinese New Year, and any kind of national holiday people get when the monarchy has a _thing_ , threw up all over the whole country crying and singing at a gold medal ceremony at the Olympic Games   ┐(´∇｀)┌

DO NOT DRINK LIKE YUURI ~~(or me)~~ OR MIX YOUR DRINKS LIKE VIKTOR ~~(or me)~~ kids. Not until you are 18, 21, etc, depending on your country of origin. TRUST ME, maybe not bad things, but embarrassing things will happen! 

For anyone curious, Wisps look like Flumphs from DND-5e. But less alieny. Though just as adorable, like a land-variety of telepathic floating, jellyfish-shaped nudibranchs.

Weliġwyrt; Willow herb or Fireweed. In Russian it’s called Ivan Chai, and it really is used to make tea ~~which I really want to try, but can’t find anywhere~~.

Points to anyone who can guess which dance Viktor and Yuuri are doing - clue is it’s a Scottish ceilidh dance, and my all-time favourite. In other news, my mother has now passed this on to the extended family (grandmother, uncle, other uncle’s girlfriend…) so yeah… definitely staying PG.

This chapter's Musical theme is from '[ _El Dorado_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbjHke7NxfA)' yet another musical number by Sir Elton John.

I've also begun to post some additional material on my Tumblr for this AU, starting with some backgrounds on the Arcane schools, which - if that tickles your fancy - you can find [here!](http://ncj700.tumblr.com/post/164005189557/apothecaryau-arcaneschools)

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT HAVE I DONE AND WHAT AM I DOING. too much plot bunnies ugh. why is art so pretty?
> 
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> [Tumblr](http://ncj700.tumblr.com)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Ncj700)


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